


Lust and Fire

by MarieAnne



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, Horror, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Robert's Rebellion, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 104,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAnne/pseuds/MarieAnne
Summary: *ALL CHARACTERS, PLACES, EXCLUDING O/C'S BELONG TO GRRM*What if Rhaegar didn't choose Lyanna.





	1. Life & Death

**Author's Note:**

> First real fanfiction, hope it's not as shotty as my sister says it is. Also up on wattpad (if you like images i post photos with every chapter ofc none belonging to me just what i find on pinterest) and fanfiction.net same title but under Antoinette Dubarry in fanfic.net and MarieAntoinetteII in wattpad. 
> 
> Enjoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Rickard Stark arrives home from Dorne with a gift for Lady Lyarra Stark.

**LIFE & DEATH**

** The North - Winterfell **

Lyarra Stark was never one to have a tender heart, especially when it came to dealing with those who intended on hurting her family. Therefore, when she found out that her husband, Lord Rickard Stark, had fathered a bastard babe and dragged the creature from Dorne to Winterfell, she was sure she had felt her mind slipping. She could not help herself but to repeatedly picture the moment in her mind. Her youngest, Benjen, had been born four moons earlier and she had excited herself to present the babe to Rickard when he had returned from his task. How foolish. A task assigned by King Aerys was bound to fail.

When the gates of Winterfell had lurched open, Lyarra had unwillingly made herself and her children, Brandon, Lyanna, and Eddard, wait for their father in the pouring rain. She was not pleased with herself, but her guilt had been for compensated by the thought that Rickard would fall to his knees and greet his children with happiness. How wrong she had been to believe that her once loyal, faithful husband would be anything but. There he was, in all his might, perched atop his horse and clutching tightly to the reins, Rickard Stark. His pale skin contrasted with his leather and steel attire, his black hair, now shoulder length, flew was damp from the rain. Those grey eyes that she had fallen in love with gazed down at her apologetically, almost begging her for forgiveness. Lyarra wondered if they had lost a man or a few men, but what she greeted with was much worse. A woman strode in on a dark horse, her skin a musky colour. Almost as if she had been kissed by the sun and bathed in gold afterwards. Lyarra looked down at her children.

He dared return with a mistress. Have I not been enough? She thought it could not get any worse, but it did. It got much worse. Rather than being fat, as Lyarra had assumed her to be, the woman handed a bundle to Yuan Tomard, guardsmen, and was helped down from the horse by the middle-aged Tomas Cassel. Lyarra felt herself falling, falling, to the ground. Benjen was taken from her arms so quickly she did not notice it until she had actually met the cold stone floor with her knees. His milkmaid patting the crying babe and calling for the children, who all apart from Eddard, had been hugging their father. The little boy had not been old enough to recognise his father when he left, and even his mother's tales of his handsome looks were not enough to sway Eddard into recognition.

She heard her husband whispering for her to get up. "Lyarra," he would repeat over and over again. She did not know it was his shame in her actions nor his pure care, and she did not want to know. When she stood, she did not take the gloved hand that he offered her, instead pushed herself from the floor, and marched up to her room. The courtyard did not need another cue; the hustle and bustle of Winterfell's workers began. Rickard nodded to those around him, thanking them for braving the rain and ushered the young brown woman to follow him to his chambers. Open opening the door, they found Lyarra huddled on their bed and weeping.

"I present you with a son. A beautiful son. A third son. Four happy, healthy children and you present me with that?" Lyarra cried, her voice hitting every corner of the warm room.

Rickard looked at floor solemnly. "I apologise for my actions, they were one of a selfish man who missed the touch of his wife."

Lyarra scoffed, laughing at her husband's feeble attempt at an apology. "So he sought that touch from a Dornish whore?"

"I am no whore!" The woman glowered, her voice turning deep with anger.

"A whore who speaks. You have outdone yourself, Rickard, truly,"

Rickard looked at the ground, angered with his wife's words. "This is Lilia. She is to take care of the child. She is not the mother and you will treat her as though you treat any other maid of our children." Lilia nodded her head, her lips pursed into a thin line.

Lyarra only then noticed that Lilia wore the cloak that she had made for Rickard, the black rabbit pelt hiding in her long curly locks. "And you gave her your coat."

"The Dornish don't know how to deal with the cold. I'm sure you cannot blame her for that."

Lyarra ignored him, only glaring at the bundle in her arms and thinking of ways to get the babe out of her home. "There are plenty of orphanages in Wintertown."

Rickard shook his head. "Where she will either freeze or be sold off to be a whore before she even bleeds. She is of my blood; I could not live with myself if I knew that she could have had a happy home in Winterfell, a home where she could grow up with her siblings."

"Spare me your words of reassurance Rickard. I will forever want that thing out of sight; no amount of sweet words will change that." A short silence followed them; the only sound was the crackling fire, the pitter-patter of rain and wind hitting the window too hard. "I spent nine months, nine wretched months carrying our child and you strip me of all honour with a bastard. I say this with no remorse. I cannot ever love you as I had once loved you Rickard Stark. I can love you as my family, but never as my husband." And with that, she opened the doors to their chambers and stormed out.

Rickard sighed and replaced his wife's position on the bed. "You can lay her down here." Lilia did as suggested and placed the baby girl on the bed gently, careful not to rouse her. Amidst all the shouting, however, the babe had woken from her slumber and she was gazing up at them with her large eyes. "What are we to tell people of her eyes?" Rickard queered, looking to Lilia for advice.

"Though rare, purple eyes are a trait possessed by many in Westeros," Lilia smiled, looking down at the girl. "What name do you give to her?"

"Arianne Snow."

"Arianne Sand," Lilia corrected. "She must know where she is from, even in the smallest of ways."

And behind the door of her very own bedroom that she shared with her husband, Lyarra listened as another woman came to take from her what she had worked her entire life to achieve. A family. She was sure she was losing her wits. She did not even feel it, but her legs had guided her to the Library Tower, up the steps, through the doors and her arms pushed open the windows. The air was crisp and welcoming almost. Lyarra lifted her skirts from underneath her, clambered up a stool, and placed both her feet on the curved edges of the window. Mother was right. Soft souled, easily broken, and not shaped for this world. It was almost as if the wind had embraced her, for when she went down, she was pulled into darkness.

The inhabitants of Winterfell were sure that they had never seen Rickard Stark weep as he did when the bell of death was rung. The duty of Lady of Winterfell fell upon no one and Rickard forbade any talk of remarriage. The duty of Lady of Winterfell fell upon no one; Rickard forbade any talk of remarriage. He had three sons and a daughter, he did not need another wife to give birth to more sons and cause rivalry in the household. Besides, the perfect mother, Lilia, though young as she was, came with no burdens towards Rickard and raised his children. Eddard soon went on to be a ward at the Vale of Arryn, Benjen, and Brandon he kept close to himself to teach and father. Lyanna however, was as wild as a wolf, he had no hold on his daughter; no one did. He did not mind, he quite enjoyed her adventurous tastes, but when compared to the elegant Arianne Sand, one would think the latter was to be the future Lady of a holdfast.

In place of her half-sister, Arianne attended all her sewing, singing, painting, writing, dressmaking, etiquette, and walking lessons. She was the perfect woman in Rickard's eyes. She reminded him of her mother, graceful, alluring; though he hated to think of her that way; and capturing. While all of his children had gained the typical Stark looks, jet black hair and grey eyes, Arianne had light brown locks and purple eyes that would at times change to a honey colour. Benjen would call her a witch at their younger age until she beat him bloody and he apologized almost every day begging her to spare him. Arianne adored the boy however, he was a boy of merely three and ten and she four and ten, he would tell her tales of how he wanted to be a Knight for the Kingsguard or join the Nightswatch and Arianne bravely played his dummy, either portraying a Wilding or an enemy of the crown.

It was all rather amusing to Lyanna who looked up to the girl. Though she was younger, she was jealous and admired her beauty. How easily she outshone her at feasts that her father held and how all the Lords of the North would flock to her, to gaze upon the beautiful bastard of Winterfell one last time before their fathers or wives dragged them away. She saw the way her brothers present, Brandon, and Benjen looked up to her. She saw the way Ned cried into her open arms when he left for the Vale. Ned never cried to Lyanna, not once. She was jealous, Lyanna had the name and the lands that came with it, but she did not have the power to fight her way to the top with just her charm, wit, and intellectual self. Though she had to admit, her half-sister tended to be of a hazed mind when decisions of true importance arose, choosing to act as a child and make a joke of it all.

Brandon, oh Brandon, the one who had found himself falling infatuated with his half-sister day by day. He knew she was not his bastard sister, he knew it in his soul, and when he told his father, he struck him. A large purple circle had formed. He was a boy of six and ten when he confessed his love. His father apologized for hitting him but forbid Brandon from ever thinking of Arianne in such ways again. He reminded him of his duty as a first son. Yet Brandon was convinced that the creature who was always humming a sweet tune was not his sister, not a Stark, not in the slightest. She did not have one bit of stern Stark blood in her. She knew how to have fun, she knew how to stay a child, and she was the only one of her siblings who would dare defy her father all the while laughing as she was punished. She would lead the way to adventures outside of the castle, accompanied by Lyanna and Benjen who would follow them eagerly. However, Brandon, dutiful Brandon had to sit back and watch over them, one hand on his sword and the other on his hip.

And as for Arianne, she was as folly as a flower in winter. She would work with the breeze. Her handmaiden, Lilia, whom she had known all her life, would tell her of all the adventures they got up to when she was just a babe on her journey home from Dorne. She planned to tell her of her mother one night after Arianne had called her mother one too many times but held back fearing that it was not her place and not the right time. Arianne, as every Dornish woman was taught she taught her the true meaning of love.

"What is love?" Arianne would ask her on her three and tenth name day. There had been a great feast held in her honour by her father, who rejected all claims that a bastard was a being that was to be shunned. Arianne went to Lilia and told her of a boy had whispered to Arianne that he had fallen in love with her. His eyes had followed her the whole night and refused to leave her at all. When she ate, he watched her, when she drank he watched her and when she chose her winner to have the first dance with her, he told her of her jealousy that the lowly Howland Reed was chosen and not he. Roose Bolton. A mythical looking boy, proud and elegant, followed her around the dining hall the entire night. Arianne could not help but laugh reminding Roose that she was lowly herself and she chose Howland because he was a close friend of hers. A lie, naturally, she had never met the young Reed until that night, but his company she did enjoy. He was light-hearted and did not wish to talk about gore and boring things that the lords of the North did. They discussed tales of Aegon's conquest, of the warriors who rode Dragon's into battle and burnt cities to the floor. Roose, however, would frequently visit with his father until three years later, when he was married and his only ability to converse with Arianne were during feasts, and usually their conversations consisted of the weather.

"Love is not what these Northerner's would tell you it is my sweet butterfly." Lilia prodded. "It is when you look at a man, or a woman, whatever your choice, and feel a burning fire in your stomach aching to feel their touch all over your body. Love is when you look at someone and feel a passion you have never felt before, itching at your heart, your mind, willing you to follow him or her around gain his or her attention somehow someway. Make a fool of yourself if need be."

"It sounds hurtful," Arianne, laughed.

"It is the most painful thing one can go through," Lilia smiled back.

And so that very night on her name day, Arianne knew what love was, but she had no one to love. She did not feel that fire burn with anyone she had stumbled across. However, she did feel love for her family, for her father who had taken such care of her and who would gaze her with such adoration that one would think he was hypnotized.

The maester, Walys at the time did. He thought no good of the girl, wanted to have her thrown out the moment she was brought into the castle as a babe. Some called him the grey rat, whispering sweet nothings into Rickard's ears. He was the one who planted the idea of marrying Brandon and Lyanna to Catelyn Tully of Riverrun and Robert Baratheon of Stormsend, respectively. Both horrible matches. Both Southern matches. It was best if Northerners married Northerners, but Rickard would hear none of it from either his counsel or the young Maester Luwin who was practising to take over from Walys (as many feared he would succumb to his old age). Walys, also the one who planted the idea into Rickard's head to march South and ask the King for more land to build a greater wall. The King instead sent Rickard a patch of dirt. The plea for more land was never brought up again. Never again.

Unbeknownst to Rickard, a bastard harboured in his own home would bring his house to its knees. The same house that preached honour would be left barren because of it. Honour would bind him to a secret that protected the life of one and put the lives of many at the hands of the gods. All for family.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn doogity my fingers hurt from all that writing. This is just an introduction to characters and some past events that have happened. I hope you enjoyed and cannot wait to write more. All the love. Winta xxx (This story is also posted on Wattpad and Fanfiction.Net my author name on there is Winta Kebreab; looking forward to getting comfortable with this site) Let me know what you guys thought of the first chapter :)


	2. A Lord's Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nameday, father and daughter bicker and years of suppressed desire unfold.

**A LORD'S LUST**

**The North - Winterfell**

* * *

  **S** pring gave Winterfell a reason to shine, with the flowers blooming earlier than expected and birds singing sweetly. Arianne could not help but notice the sombre mood inside of the dining hall, where her father had called her and her siblings too, made her want to shatter the joyful one outside. He had just broken the news to the four present that only three of them would be attending a great Tourney that was to be held in Harrenhal. Brandon, Lyanna, and Benjen would all be packing their trunks and leaving in a sennight for the occasion, but Arianne; ironically, was to be held back to stay at home and continue her lessons while her father decided who was to be the best possible suitor for her.

"Father, please can I go?" She asked once more, begging almost. "If everyone else is going, I'm sure it'll be safe enough for me to go." Her pleas, however, fell on deaf ears. Her father raised his hand to indicate that he wanted her silence. If it would take a tantrum for her father to change his mind, then a tantrum she would have.

"Arianne, you are not safe unless I am present, we have talked about this already," Rickard sighed looking down at the young girl. He sat at the Lord's Table, with a large scroll in front of him. The letter, which read;

_Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount & Warden of the North:_

_Lord Walter Whent & Lady Shella Whent of Harrenhal, extend their invitation to you, your family, and bannermen to celebrate the maidenhood of their daughter Lady Merida Whent. A Tourney, to be held in her honour and is to last ten days; let it be known to your men that there will be jousting, archery and swordsmanship competitions with prizes in gold and jewels to be given as rewards. Ten grand jousts and ten grand feasts. Arrive at Harrenhal by the third full moon of spring._

_With regard,_

_Lord Walter Whent and Lady Shella Whent of the Riverlands_

Rickard could not fathom why Lord Whent would not merely state that they were invited to Harrenhal, but then again the Southerners enjoyed over complicating even the smallest of matters.

"Is it not right that Lyanna not go?" Arianne questioned much to Lyanna's dismay.

Lyanna, whom truly wanted her sister to accompany them, shook her head. "Father knows I can care for myself just fine." She piped. Arianne turned to her expecting a  _but_ to follow, though it did not. Lyanna could not deny that being the only female representing her family would suit her better, even if she was betrothed. It would cause less raise brows and fewer questions asked. Deep down, however, she knew it was her selfish desire to have the attention of the nobility on her and her only. Something she did not have the delight of since her father had brought Arianne as a babe to Winterfell. Suddenly it did not matter to the maids so much if she skipped a step and grazed her knee so much, but rather if the new babe in the cradle was fed, bathed and burped enough. She had to give credit though; the attention began to wonder when Benjen was born, her mother opting to coo at him rather than play with her.

"Lyanna is to meet her betrothed. You have no betrothed," Rickard, pointed out.

To which Arianne mumbled, "I would if you let me free for once."

"I heard that." He turned his gaze from his daughter back to the scroll, sighing. He knew this day would come when he wanted to keep her shielded, and she was willed enough to fight against him. Lilia had warned him.  _Watch your pace she is Dornish. We Dornish women do not like restrictions._ However, he would hear none of it. As far as he was concerned, she was raised in the North as a Northern woman. Maybe Lilia had had a stronger influence on her than he would have liked. Recently he noticed how she would mimic her actions though he was sure she did not know  _exactly why_ she did, her handmaiden did so she did.

"You cannot keep me cooped up in here for the rest of my day's father. I will go to Harrenhal."

Rickard looked at his children scowling. They had all been shuffling their feet awkwardly unsure of how to contribute to the conversation. "The hell, you will. You may leave; pack your bags you three. Brandon, Tomas will let you know on your duties during the journey and at the Tourney. You are to watch over your siblings; you will be mice in a pit of snakes. Do enjoy yourselves, but watch your tongues." Rickard did not have to ask twice, the three left, Lyanna giving a second glance to her sister and nodding. He understood her sadness, most expeditions, visits to holdfasts and other castles; Arianne was left to stay with Lilia. He did not mean to purposefully hurt her, but protect her from those who did. Once the door to the hall was close, Arianne began tapping her foot loudly on the stone floors. "You must understand, Arianne, I do this for your sake. The world is cruel and those within it crueller. A Tourney is no place for a young maiden to be."

"Merida is a maiden. Her family celebrates that," Arianne snapped back.

"Because Lord Whent is as rich as he is poor," Rickard responded, only to be given a quizzical look by Arianne. "He wants to find her a husband."

Arianne shrugged her shoulders. "There will be many young ladies there. I have never been south. Hell, I've never been past the Godswood papa."

"I am your father, and you will do as I say."

" _Aye erm yer farther and ye will dew as aye sai,"_ Arianne mimicked. An occasional thing she did when she felt herself losing in an argument. Though she thought it irked him, Rickard worked hard to stifle his laughter from her scrunched up face.

"Watch yourself, Arianne."

"I  _am_ going to Harrenhal, I  _will_ have fun with my siblings, and for the first time since I can remember, I will meet people outside of these walls. I am Dornish you forget-"

Rickard shook his head. "How?  _How_ do you know what Dornishmen even act like?"

Arianne glared at him once more. Her eyes were squinting so close together it almost seemed as if she did not see a thing. Rickard sighed, having had enough of her attitude and lack of respect, and got up from his chair. "You are young, wilful and naïve. I don't want them to hurt you is all."

"Father," Arianne whispered as he climbed down the steps to the Lord's Table and stood in front of her. "You have kept me safe for my entire life. Is it not fair that I have this one experience? You were the one who told me I could marry for love. How will I find love if I do not look for it? You learned to let Lyanna free, and I obeyed your every command, so now you must learn to let me free. I know you will be lonely here for a few moons, but we will see you again in Riverrun and then we will follow you to Storm's End. And then back home."

How could he refuse those eyes that blinked up at him? He placed his hand on her face, exhaling. "Don't you think I know these things? You are the last I have control over. You know Lyanna she has never listened. Brandon and Benjen are grown men; I cannot keep them under my eye as I have always done. You are my child, and I will not be there to protect you as I have. The others they have their names to keep them from people's lips. You, you will be someone to gawk over at them, something to jab and pet. I do not want a daughter who will be stripped of her honour to come back home. I want a daughter who has learned how to conduct herself in society and has enjoyed herself."

"And I will father I will if you let me go. If it is my eyes you fear people will call strange, Nan has told me that the royal family has them too. And she has said that some Dornish has it, if they ask I will tell them it is a common trait or I will beat them bloody like I did Benjen," Arianne smiled clutching her father's hand.

Rickard laughed; "I will look weak now," he said.

"No, you won't. A lord who knows how to accept defeat is the best of them all."

"I see your poetry is improving," Rickard smiled. Arianne nodded back, proud that he had noticed. "To your room. I will call for a seamstress to come."

"Oh thank you, father. I will not let you down I promise. I will be the perfect lady-," the heavy door muting her shouts of glee.

Rickard watched her for a few moments, realized that he looked foolish standing in the middle of the hall alone and returned to his seat. How he hated reading through the letters that seemed to arrive by the load every morning.

"They say wars are easier than daughters," the soft voice of Lilia wondered into the room. She had entered through the servants' door carrying a jug of ale and a cap on a tray. She placed the tray gently beside the letters that were scattered in front of him.

"Those who say that have never seen a true war," Rickard responded, taking the cup once she had finished pouring the ale.

Lilia laughed. "She has convinced you to let her go I take? You could hear her screams from the kitchens."

"You were right. She was angry at first, quiet at second-"

"And so very understanding at third. She has you wrapped around her little finger Rickard," Lilia smiled sitting next to him.

Rickard looked to the handmaiden, she was right. Lilia had predicted everything that Arianne would do when asking her father to go. She had predicted the same thing when Lilia asked for a name day celebration when she asked for almost anything Lilia knew when and how the girl would ask for it. "Aye, she does."

"So what if people ask questions?"

"I was hoping you would go with her? Help her."

Lilia looked at the Lord as if he were a fool. "If I know any of those families, and I do, it's that they never change servants from when the servant is hired until their death or resignation. So unless a freak accident has hit the South, then everyone there whom I worked with will recognise me. They will recognise her as well if she is with me. It's best she go alone; I can tell her what to tell them if that's what you fear."

Rickard nodded. The room grew silent all of a sudden, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire or wind hitting the windows.

 _They call this spring._ Lilia thought. Ever since her arrival at Winterfell fifteen years ago, she was sure, her body had frozen, and she was walking around like a snowflake at times. She began to think about their first day, Arianne and her, at Winterfell. How when she had been bathed and rested, the next day she took Arianne for a walk around the grounds. She did not trust the people of Winterfell yet, and she held Arianne so tight in her arms she was sure that she stopped breathing. Though she would soon come to realize that they were, most of them, gentle souls. How Rickard had commanded they be treated no differently than, they would treat each other. Lilia had grown to make friends that she knew she would love forever. Oh, how she had missed her friends from Dorne, but her mother had warned her, a handmaiden may sound like a petty job, but at times it can cost you your life.

And that it did, Lilia had lost everything she held dear when her Lady and best friend instructed her to ride as far as South went until she hit Mareen if that is what it took to keep her baby safe. Lilia, who planned to leave on the dead of the night, then stumbled upon Rickard who had come to take the baby on the Kings orders. He stood at the steps, hand outstretched, armour gleaming and blood sprayed across his face. She thought he had come to kill the freshly born babe and remembered how she ran down the steps, foolishly at that because he had guards who were ready to grab her and kill her if need be, even though he denied it. He let her live, for he knew that seven guards and one Lord would not be able to hold nor care for a babe.

She also remembered catching a glimpse of her lover's dead eyes and body that lay sprawled upon the castle steps that night. A bloodbath. Even though Rickard assured her he was there to take the babe to the North and keep her safe, she struggled to forgive him for killing her love. If had it not been for Rickard, Lilia knew that both her and Arianne would be dead. No one noticed their departure from Dorne for they left in secret late at night.

"What are you thinking of?" Rickard asked. He was muffled in her daydreams; she shook herself awake from her daze.

"Just a tale of a handmaiden being kidnapped by a Lord and forced to work for him and pour him ale," Lilia smiled.

Rickard smiled back at her. She had grown accustomed to the rare sight of him smiling. He rarely did so in front of the other Lords, but around his children and her, he would let a smile slip out here and there. "Oh kidnapped you say?"

"Yes. And one fateful day she poisons him and steals his gold and goes home."

"She sounds horrible."

" _She!?_ He kidnapped her," Lilia gasped raising her right hand to hit his shoulder.

Before she could though, Rickard grabbed it tightly. "Careful now, striking your Lord is an act of treason Lilia." He whispered.

Lilia stared at him and raised her brow. "Oh is it now?" She raised her left hand to hit his shoulder.

He was much quicker than her she had come to realise because he held that one tightly in his right hand. She sat next to him both arms held up in the air, chest heaving from her laughter and face flushed. It was not the first time that Rickard had shown her attention, but she had always tried to brush it off as a husband missing his dead wife. She tried her hardest to look away from his lips as her laughter died down and the room was filled with silence once more. Rickard wondered why the little handmaiden was avoiding his eyes and tried to follow her gaze with his. He struggled to do so though, his eyes would fall ever so innocently to her heaving chest, and she had not bothered to wear undergarments today.

She must have grown used to the weather or she was embracing spring, whatever it was, he enjoyed it. And he could not help himself from what he did next. He had stayed faithful for fifteen years to his dead wife, but she was just a memory now, how long was a man expected to be faithful for before it was acceptable that what he did was not out of mourning for her but out of pure lust or love or both. Lilia could not help herself either. It was just two lonely souls trying to unburden themselves of fifteen years of a loveless life. When he kissed her, she could not help but kiss him back. Innocently at first, the friends did not know what hunger lurked in the pits of their stomachs, but Rickard made it known. He let her hands free from his grip and lifted her from the chair and onto the table, pushing aside the tray, toppling the jug and cup onto the floor and facing her towards him. He felt a sudden lurch in his chest and felt compelled to kiss her harder; she reciprocated grabbing at the back of his neck.

"Rickard," she whispered when his hands began to slide under her dress.

He pulled away. "I'm sorry, forgive me. I don't know what-,"

She laughed wrapping her legs around his abdomen. "I was just going to ask if the Lord's high table was the best place."

He answered her by tearing at the front of her dress, buttons that held it together ran free all over the floor underneath them. "Aye, it's the perfect place."

…

" **Y** our sister's Brandon, never let them out of your sight. You are to wait for the others when you arrive at Moat Cailin rest there if you must, then continue on the Kings road, rest at Greywater Watch, a two day journey to The Trident, you'll find a somewhere to stop there and then straight ahead until you arrive at Harrenhal rested and on the day of the full moon. You understand. Tomas and Maester Luwin will travel with you to make sure you are taking the right road; Roose Bolton has traveled to the Riverlands before so if you need anything ask him. Do not waste our ravens as well. Keep everyone fed and warm understanding. You won't be comfortable until you hit the twins, the weather here is very different than it is in the South." Rickard rambled, patting Brandon on the back as he instructed him.

"For the third time father, I have mapped it out. We will get there one time, and if we do not, they will wait for us. The King won't allow his favourite warden's children to be left out of all the fun will he?" Brandon smiled as he put on his leather gloves.

Rickard nodded proudly, Brandon reminding him too much of himself at that particular moment. "The girls are in the carriage?"

"Aye, have you said your goodbyes to them?"

"I have. Make sure Benjen does not mingle with the men of the Black or the Kingsguard too much. No son of mine is to swear fealty to anyone or anything but his house."

"Keep Benjen away from his dreams, got it." Brandon laughed shaking his head at his father.

" _Brandon."_

"I'll do my best."

And with that, Brandon turned away, climbed atop his horse. Rickard signalled for the gates to be opened, not wanting to dwell on the thought of being away from his children for so long, and shouted his farewells.

"Don't miss us too much!" Lyanna smiled, her head poking out from the window.

Arianne who Rickard guessed pulled her sister back in appeared from it and smiled at her father as she waved. He waved back, though he did not think she for saw the gates lurched closed behind them. The soldiers who had waited outside of the gates followed behind them, some on horses, and others on foot. "Gods be good," Rickard mumbled to himself.

"They will be fine," Lilia whispered, taking his arm in hers. "You have taught Brandon enough."

"I know they will."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OOOOhhhhh saucy saucy sacuccccyiiii. I loved writing this chapter, but at the same time it's a filler. Chapter three will be the journey to Harrenhal and let's just say that Brandon does some pretty…like father like son…**   
>  **J**   
>  **I hope you guys enjoyed and I'll try posting tomorrow, if not it'll have to be on the weekend because school is really dicking me down hard right now. Thankyou so much to those who reviewed it means so much to me! I responded on PM because I don't know how to respond on reviews. I apologise for any grammatical or spelling errors, I haven't edited this and am just super excited and wanna get something out. That's it I guess. Lots of love xxx**


	3. The Journey

**THE JOURNEY**

**Riverlands - Kingsroad:**

* * *

"Lyanna, ride behind me," Brandon Stark bellowed to his younger sister. She had been gallivanting in front of him with her horse, and as his father had assigned him the job of leading the party, he did not want to let him down. Nor did he want his sister to injure herself before they had even made it to Harrenhal.

"I'll ride wherever I want," Lyanna snapped back. Her brother had been bugging her for the past hour or so and she had had enough of him. So what if she rode a few steps in front of him? If he wanted to lead so bad, he could go ahead. She had always been the stubborn type, the fighting back at any chance; her father had told her she got it from her mother. She didn't think Arianne got that trait from her mother as well. When Arianne had come skipping out of the Hall doors and squealed to Lyanna that their father had agreed to let her go, Lyanna smiled back. Though out of common courtesy. Her love for her sister would always be there, somewhere in her heart, but the jealousy she had for her seemed to grow day by day. When they were getting fitted for dresses she couldn't help but suggest Arianne against all the dresses that suited her well. Reminding her that she was to be modest and dress according to her status. Lilia was present at the fittings as well and tutted Lyanna, telling her that Tourney's are for exposure and the only time a lady could act the way she wanted once the sun had gone down.

" _Dress as you want child, the weather nor eyes will freeze nor judge you. Trust me."_  Lilia had whispered to Arianne once Lyanna had excused herself out of fear she would let something unkind slip out.

" _Are you sure Lilia, some of these dresses are a little low cut."_ Arianne sighed staring down at the dress she had been wearing. It was a dark red colour and complimented her skin tone very much. There was, however, a low plunging front and a backless design to it that made her feel uneasy. Lyanna had opted to have simpler and plainer dresses made. Most in a different shade of blue with layering and a collar.

" _Your father did not bring down the finest seamstresses and finest silks and cloths in the North to have you choke yourself up in a dull dress that you could wear at home. When you get to Harrenhal, you will have all eyes on you. Lyanna is betrothed, you are not. If any time was perfect to find the man you love, now is. Do not second guess yourself when it comes to these things, us Dornish women have a knack for fashion that some Northern ladies may….lack."_

And Lyanna had heard it all. She did not have the stomach to leave and pressed her ear against the door. Huffing at the Handmaiden's statement, she marched to her room to change into her riding wear.

"Lyanna watch out!" Brandon called out. She ducked her head just in time. Her thoughts must have consumed her for she had almost hit a branch. She turned back to her brother and sent a smile his way.

"Have you checked on Arianne? I'm afraid the road does not suit her too well," Lyanna responded slowing her pace to match her brothers.

"She is in the back, on a carriage. I am to lead the party. How would I have had the time to check on her?" Brandon asked frowning.

"Maybe the seven thousand stops we made?" Lyanna noted. Her brother had been acting funny ever since they had left Winterfell, or rather ever since he had learned that Arianne would be joining them to Harrenhal. It seemed Benjen was the only one who was excited about his half-sister's company to the Tourney. Lyanna had noticed that every time her name was brought up, Brandon would look away and concentrate on something other than the conversation. She wondered why. Had they fought about a silly little thing beforehand? It did not seem so, Arianne seemed ecstatic and asked Lyanna about Brandon and Benjen every chance she got. She was riding in the back with their Bannerman, with the Reeds, Glovers, Umbers, Bolton's and Mormont's, the ladies of each house accompanying her in the carriage. Apart from looking pale a few days into the trip, Lyanna hadn't noticed anything wrong with Arianne; she did though notice something wrong with her brother.

"What's wrong with you lately?" Lyanna asked.

Brandon turned to her and then turned away. "I'm just worried about meeting Catelyn is all."  _Lie._ Just as you should be worried about meeting Robert."

She rolled her eyes. "You are a whore in disguise of a Lord; I know you are lying to me, Brandon. And as for fearing meeting my betrothed, I do not fear such a thing. I fear nothing." Lyanna smiled back. Brandon smiled at his sister; he had always admired her willfulness and sense of adventure. He hoped that Robert Baratheon would treat her well, honour her most of all. He had heard tales of the young man, and he reminded him too much of himself. He could not have someone like himself married to his sister; it would ruin her. Lyanna was far too beautiful to be dishonoured and married to a man who spent his time whoring and drinking from sunrise until sun fall. He imagined her cooped up in Storms End, probably trying to fling herself down from its endless towers out of pure boredom. And he didn't know what spurred it, but Arianne flashed through his mind,  _naked._

Brandon had to admit, as perverted as it sounded once he thought about it, he had watched her bathe once in the bathroom. It wasn't planned, of course, he had been wandering the castle and stumbled upon her humming and just couldn't help himself from peering through the creek of the door.

"Lost again in your thoughts," Lyanna interrupted.

 _Damn you._ Brandon cursed, just when things were getting good.

"We should stop here, it looks like it'll rain soon and we don't want to drag our horses and carriages through the mud. Besides I think our dear sister has had enough for one day," Lyanna continued turning back to see the mile-long stretch of horses, guards, carriages and trolleys that marched behind them. Banners of the North flapping around in the wind violently. It was time to stop; they would freeze to death with the wind.

"When did you get so good at journeys?" Brandon frowned holding up his arm. The action was followed by a blow of the horn and another in the distance and one further away. The party came to a halt; men jumped from their horses and chatter erupted.

"When did you forget I go riding almost every day?"

….

**Riverlands -Kingsroad – Northern Camp:**

The tents had been set up and night had fallen. Supper had been served, and the majority of the camp was preparing for bed. The minority preparing for a night of drinking and well, what usually comes after drinking. Fires began to burn out in front of tents as those who occupied them settled down for the night. Arianne and Lyanna insisted on sharing a tent to spare one for anyone who needed one. One night in the same bed wouldn't kill them, besides they used to sleep together as young girls.

"That is the longest ride we've had yet," Arianne huffed. She lay, body sprawled on the bed and hair messy from her constant tugging and twirling.

"You were in a carriage baby sister," Lyanna laughed sitting down on the bed next to her.

"You did not have to talk about which way to stitch and how handsome the Prince would be for hours with the  _ladies_ of the houses. Besides they spent more time ignoring everything I said, it seems the Northern ladies have taken a certain discontent with me lately," Arianne sighed playing with her older sisters hair.

Lyanna could not help but feel her face flush red with anger. It was one thing for her to feel jealous of her, which was natural among siblings, but for the wives of bannermen of her father to treat their liege lord's daughter in such a way was not acceptable. She noted that she needed to talk to them in the morning. "Why didn't they talk to you?" Lyanna questioned.

"Oh, I'm guessing it's because I'm a bastard. I do not mind really; they are all crude and annoying. Tomorrow I wish to ride with you," Arianne said shrugging.

"It's not okay for them to treat you like that Arianne, you are their liege lord's daughter. They ought to show you some respect."

"Lyanna it's quite alright, I've gotten used to the ladies of the North hating me," Arianne laughed slapping her sister's shoulder. "Now tell me you're excited to race with me tomorrow finally."

"Oh I won't be riding tomorrow," Lyanna said sighing. She would be in the carriage twiddling her fingers until they arrived at Harrenhal. They had seen Riverrun from afar three days ago, and if Rickard's timing were right, the moon would be full by tomorrow night, meaning the first feast was to be held tomorrow night. "The moon will be full, and we are at least four hours ride from Harrenhal, according to Brandon. So I'll be in the carriage with you being a lady." Lyanna said looking at her pants.

Arianne groaned throwing herself back to the bed, silence followed them after that. "Are you excited to meet Robert?"

Lyanna copied Arianne's actions, throwing herself back on the bed. "Can we talk about Ned and how we should be excited about seeing him."

"He'll be a man now. He probably takes after father. Gloomy and grey," Arianne said laughing, earning a slap on the stomach from her sister.

"You take after father too I hope you know," Lyanna responded.

"So tell me, are you excited to meet him?" She asked again.

"Of course I am. Though I hear he…whores and drinks a lot-,"

"Oh hush, I am sure that once you two are married he will honour you and you will have many little children running around Storms End. You are lucky, Robert is to be Lord Paramount and master of Storm's End Lord of the Stormlands. Father matched you well," Arianne added. Lyanna had to agree that her father gave her a good if she had it her way she would stay unmarried for life and live out her days riding and fighting.

"What about you? Are you excited to meet the high Lords of Westeros finally?" Lyanna asked nudging her.

"I'm not too sure anymore. I was excited at home, but now that we are so near, I fear that they might not even like me. Father did say how gossipy the Southerners were. I'm worried I won't fit in Lyanna. With the Northern Lords, I knew what they were like, rough and straightforward. I won't know these people's wordplay or anything as a matter of f-," she was interrupted by a hand covering her mouth.

"That is your tired side speaking. If I know men-"

"You don't-"

"I  _know_ that for some reason they all seem to want your attention,"  _and not mine,_  "and I know you will be accepted. Besides you are Dornish. You always say Dornish women can charm the back legs off a donkey." They both exploded into a fit of laughter, clutching at their stomachs and rolling around the bed. The tent door flapped open to reveal Brandon; he looked red and drunk.

"Brandon?" Arianne frowned sitting up on the bed.

"Lyanna, would you leave us for a moment please?" Brandon asked looking at his sister. Lyanna knew that they were probably going to work out the fight she had presumed they had. She nodded her head and made her way out of the tent.

Once the tent flap close Arianne looked to the young Lord for an answer. "What is it?"

He stayed silent for a time, his breathing the only sound echoing around the small tent. Arianne was further confused.

"Have I done something wrong?" She asked again.

How could he respond to her? For the first time in his life he felt his knees go weak and begin to wobble, maybe it was the ale or the fact that she stood up and was wearing a robe to cover her nightgown. He felt his body lower to the ground underneath him, Arianne rushed to him trying to pick him up. She realized that was a stupid move as he was three times her height and weight, so she stood in front of him worried.

"Are you ill?" she asked another time, to again, no response. She felt his forehead for a fever, like Lilia, had done to her every time she bled at the end of the month. It was cold but not too hot, perfect temperature. She then felt his neck, apart from the sweat that was to be expected of a Northerner in the South, she felt nothing odd. She then lifted her arm to hit him on his head, hoping to wake him in whatever drunken trance he was in before it hit his head though he slapped it away.

She then assumed the worse. "Have you slept with a whore again? You know what father would say about this, you cannot continue to dishonour your betrothed like this Brandon," she exclaimed.

He shook his head, laughing at the memory of his father's bellows once he found out that his son had been to the local brothel and had slept with four of the women there. He was surprised that Winterfell didn't crumble around them. He eventually came around, on the day they left for Harrenhal. Assuring his son that every man has urges but once married must keep his and his wife's honour and sleep with her only. Brandon agreed with his father, how could he not?

"If you are just wasting my time then you need to leave. Lyanna and I need to sleep," Arianne said, angry that he was now dragging this on.

In his drunken state, he pulled her down to the ground so that she fell to her knees in front of him. "I-I-me-Brandon-I 'ave seemed to find myself-self-in love wiithhhh youuuu Arianne S-s-sand." He hiccupped. Arianne rolled her eyes. Every time Brandon would get drunk, or it would get too late in the night he would come to her and whisper that he loved her. She knew it was his drunken-self-talking, but it irritated her to no end.

She pushed him to the ground roughly and crossed her arms, still on her knees. "You are so annoying! You need to realise that it's gross when you say those things, Brandon."

"But no! Listen to me okay? WearenotsiblingsIknowitwearenoteverrelaatreddd," he mumbled. She had had enough of him; he was too drunk to even form sentences. She made to get up from the floor. "No!" he gasped dramatically once again. For a grown man, he was acting a fool. "I love you, and I have to tell you this before you find some Southern lord to fall in love with. I love you, Arianne, I doooo."

"Get. Out." She whispered. Brandon sighed, his grey eyes looking at her for some sympathy, and she gave him none.

"I'm sorry," he said once more before pushing her down on her back and planting a soft kiss on her lips. Arianne hit against his chest protesting against the kiss; she couldn't deny that she didn't like it, but it disgusted her that she did. She could taste the strong flavour of ale infiltrating her mouth. But it was only a kiss, she could recover from that, she could. But soon enough they had managed to roll around enough that Brandon was the one on his back and Arianne the one with her legs spread apart around his waist and knees grazing the carpet that had been laid out on the floor. Brandon sat up, both of her legs still around his waist and grabbed at her waist. Their kiss grew hungry, almost as if they had been wanting it for years. Brandon had, Arianne though had never known her body could feel such things. It wasn't the itch at the stomach that Lilia had described to be love, but it was her sudden want to grind her hips against his groin that told her it was her wish for passion. She had read about it in one of Lilia's Dornish fairy tales; she couldn't help herself as she grew intrigued as to what the young Prince and Princess were doing in Watergardens of Dorne and when she found out, Arianne found herself unable to sleep for almost two nights. She remembered a certain line in the tale that led her to move Brandon's arms from her waist, lower and lower until he roughly grabbed her behind causing her to let out a small moan.

Brandon bit down on her lips, fearing someone would walk in on their Lord and his supposed sister in a questionable position on the floor. Arianne smiled into his kiss as he licked the small trickle of blood. "You animal," she murmured. But Brandon couldn't help himself, anything that belonged to her body tasted sweet to him. He smiled at her, whispered something she couldn't quite make out and began kissing down her collar, around her neck and eventually to her breasts. Her nightgown had been somehow brought down past her shoulders to almost revealing her breasts to him, and she blushed for she had never been so close to a man she had realized. Let alone the man she grew to love as her brother. Something in her woke, she could blame it on the lack of lighting in the room, or the fact that the floor had begun to grow comfortable underneath them but she grew almost thirsty for him, running her hands through his shoulder-length black hair, grabbing his hand and indicating that she did not mind if he felt her breasts, which he was more than eager to do. Brandon let out a small animal like groan and Arianne then felt something under her and opened her eyes, Brandon opened his not too long after her, and they moved away from their kiss. Arianne knew what it was and knew that she wanted whatever it was Brandon planned to do. But she couldn't. If her father found out she had lost her maidenhood while in the South he would surely never let her out of his sight  _ever_ again. Brandon looked at her once more confused as to why she had stopped and then realized. "There are other things we can do," he whispered playing with the ropes that held her gown together.

"Dearest Brandon, I am not about to be another woman who you dishonoured Catelyn Tully with," Arianne said. Her mind though screamed no. She feared this would be the last chance at anything like this, but at the same time, she wanted to scrub herself until she was flesh for she had just committed a great crime.

Brandon did not mind her rejection. That kiss, the feel of her body, was enough for him. Now he knew he would never be able to lay with Catelyn or any other woman without whispering her name, for she did for him what no one else could do. Wake the wild wolf.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not talking about his erection in that last line, it's metaphorical. I tried to make this as smutty but not so smutty because I want my first smut scene to be the whole chapter. Anyyyywayy I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thinks gonna or should happen next, at this point I'm taking ideas from reviews and thankyou Arianna Le Fay for giving me the greatest plot twist ever, I won't tell you how I'll use it because then I'm scared I won't have any readers but let's just say it involves a many triangles. The next chapter involves everyone meeting everyone and the feast so be ready for some rivalry, revelations and a whole lot of falling in love for a day. All the love, xxx Winta :)
> 
>  


	4. Purple & Grey

 

**PURPLE & GREY**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal**

* * *

 

 **T** he journey from the camp was a short one, well it seemed short to the Northern party as they had travelled for almost an entire month. Lyanna and Arianne dressed, they had opted not to bring handmaidens to prevent any further costs for their father, who in their eyes had spent far too much on dresses, new clothes for Benjen and Brandon and travel expenses. Lyanna had chosen to wear a dress that was long sleeved, came up to her neck and showered in beads and embroidery. It was a dark blue shade and layered twice, which made Lyanna regret her decision of designing all her dresses like so. Thankfully she knew Arianne would not mind letting her borrow one of her very own dresses. She wore her hair in a simple two strand braid, a look that most of the Northern ladies wore. Arianne's dress, on the other hand, was a dark red colour, layered once, and made of a silky soft material that flowed smoothly. Much to the Northern ladies disdain the dress was low cut and was short sleeved. Her hair was let out, flowing behind her until it reached past her mid back contrasting against her purple eyes, which she thought would turn back into their usual colour of honey, they instead became a darker shade of purple.

 _Maybe they're confused by the climate change?_ Arianne thought to herself as she coated her under eyes with a black substance that Lilia would use during feasts and special outings. Both girls, like Brandon, Benjen and most of the Northern ladies and Lord wore their symbolic cloaks to represent their homeland. The Stark's opting for grey pelt and grey coats, Arianne wore a black pelt and a black coat.

"It's so hot!" Lyanna exclaimed fanning herself with her hands. She had indeed misjudged the heat of the South.

"You were warned," Arianne pointed out handing Lyanna the fan she had made for the Tourney. Lyanna thanked her and began vigorously fanning herself.

"We're here my lady!" Bethany Bolton cried looking out the window of the carriage. They were indeed there. A horn sounded indicating their arrival, and they heard the gates of the castle lurch open. Horses neighed, carriages came to a stop and instructions were directed. Arianne could hear Brandon's voice bellow instructions to his men; her heart began beating faster. She had said good night to Brandon the night before with another small kiss and told him he could never tell a soul and they swore an oath to keep it to themselves. He promised her that he would speak with her as usual from then on.

"Lord Stark!" The tiny voice of Lord Whent was heard from outside. The carriage door opened to reveal the courtyard. Brandon jumped down from his horse followed by Benjen who was staring up at him. Arianne wondered what he was watching.

"Lord Whent, thank you for inviting us, we pray your daughter grows and fulfils many more name days,"

"Thank you; please make yourselves at home. We have servants for you and handmaidens for your ladies at our disposal. We have an exclusive courtyard for your guards and bannermen's soldier," Lord Whent rambled, but Arianne had stopped listening. Instead, she focused on stepping out of the carriage and noticed exactly what Benjen was staring up at. Lords and ladies of Westeros were staring down at them from their balconies. Their arrival must not have been expected for no one was in the courtyard and looked as if they had just stepped out of their rooms to gaze upon the Northern party.

"Not scary at  _all,_ " Lyanna whispered staring along with Arianne. There were many of them, lined up wall to wall, balcony to balcony. Neither girls knew who was who but Lyanna was able to point out the white and gold cloaks of the Kingsguard. The royal family must have arrived already.

* * *

 **H** arrenhal was truly the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms, without the upbeat Tourney in place one could see it being a dull, ruinous place. With its five towers that had the ability to hurt one's head if gazed upon for too long, and grounds that could crush Winterfell and cover it three times. The stables housed thousands of horses, with space still available and the kitchens were as large as Winterfell's hall. Though here and there decaying nature of the building could be seen. It seemed that only the lower three towers out of the five were in use, the rest crumbling away to ruin. The gatehouse appeared to be larger than Winterfell's Great Keep, and from outside the gates, only the tallest two towers could be seen. Of the great towers, the shortest one was as high as Winterfell's highest tower, yet none of the towers was exactly straight. All of them were lumpy, cracked or bent from the burning of Harrenhal by the Targaryen dragons. The original names of the towers melted away with Harren the Black. The Tower of Dread, Widow's Tower which connects to the Kingspyre Tower. The Wailing Tower which contained storerooms on the ground floor and vaults beneath. The Tower of Ghosts near the gate and ruined Sept. And the Kingspyre Tower containing the castellan chambers. The main entrance, from which the Stark's entered had walls thick and layered. The Hall of the Hundred Hearths was the castle's great hall. It had thirty-five hearths, and its floors were smooth slate and steps led to the two galleries above. The kitchens, located in a round stone building with a domed roofed contained nothing but kitchens, so one could only imagine the preparation that would go into the feasts and meals and snacks that would be presented the next ten days. The Flowstone Yard, where the men-at-arms exercised and drill and where the squires would clean the armour. It was situated near the Wailing Tower. The bear put, ten yards across and five yards down, walled in stone, floored with sand and encircled by six tiers and marble benches, located in the middle ward. The bathhouse, had a low ceiling, was full of great stone tubs large enough to hold six or seven. It would be another social gathering for the more,  _exploring_ , lords and ladies.

Lord Whent turned to the girls who had just come out of the carriage and were gazing up at the balcony. "They have all been awaiting your arrival, my ladies," he smiled.

Brandon cleared his throat. "My younger sisters, Lyanna Stark and Arianne Sand. My Bannerman's wife, Bethany Bolton wife of Roose Bolton, my Bannerman's daughters; Lady Maege Mormont, Lady Meria Karstark and Lady Haley Umber," he said through looking to Arianne the entire time.

Lord Whent smiled as the girls curtsied respectfully. "Your home is one of grandeur my lord," Lyanna complimented.

Lord Whent turned a dark shade of red, beaming at Lyanna. "Thank you, my lady. We have arranged for handmaidens to be assigned to you each for your optimal comfort here at Harrenhal, so bid farewell to your handmaidens and say hello to your new ones."

"Oh, we did not travel with Handmaiden's," Bethany piped.

Arianne and Lyanna turned to her. It was known that private matters of the family were not to be discussed with others. Lyanna knew it was wrong to get close to the girl, but she had no other acquiesces apart from Arianne who was far too busy sewing or writing one thing or another to pay any mind to her. Bethany looked nervously at Lyanna and bowed her head.

Lord Whent ignored her though, "I do apologize for my children not being here to welcome you. My sons are practising for the joust tomorrow day, and my daughter is to be presented at the feast tonight."

"Oh that is quite alright," Lyanna politely responded.

Arianne looked around the castle balcony, noticing the royal family was staring down at them quite intently. She caught the Prince's eye for a moment, no longer, for she was too scared to look at the man whose hair was a scary silver and eyes so capturing she feared to fall for him. She refused to do that, never. Lilia spoke too highly of Elia Martell for Arianne to allow herself to fall in love with her husband. Or even like him. She would be respectful; he was her prince. Besides she was sure, he looked to Lyanna for a little while too long.

"Well, it seems your handmaidens are here, and your trunks are being taken up to your rooms. Please follow them," Lord Whent said pointing to the six handmaidens that had lined up to introduce them. From the corner of her eye Lyanna could see their trunks being hauled up to their rooms.

"My brother Lord Whent? Have the Arryn party arrived yet?" Brandon asked. He had been itching to ask the question. They had not seen their brother in years, and the siblings were eager to meet with him again.

"Are you telling me that you couldn't see me on the balcony? You all looked at it so many damn times." A voice came from behind them, it was a young voice, but still strong and manly. The four turned around. Ned. He had grown so much since they had last seen him. His hair was similar to Brandon's except his was all tied to the nape of his neck. Brandon was the first to pull his little brother into a hug, almost suffocating him.

"Gods be good Ned," Benjen whispered hugging his brother second.

Lyanna was after him laughing at her brother and whispering to him. "How is he? Good?"

"Robert will make a good match for you,"  _lie._ Ned had no idea what persuaded their father to make the terrible match, but he knew his father, and he knew he would never change his mind. Even for Lyanna. Though through the Ravens that she had sent to him at the Vale, Lyanna wrote of how her and their father grew apart over the years, significantly.

"Arianne," Ned smiled softly staring at his half-sister. It had been years and the years had been exceptionally kind to her. Arianne smiled and pulled him into a hug, tighter than all of the others had.

"I've missed you so much," she said refusing to let go.

Ned laughed. "Aye, I missed you all as well," he responded pulling out of the hug. Truthfully he wanted to take another look at her. His respectful and honourable and godly side of him told him to look away, so he did, instead focusing on his brother.

"Come, my Lord Brandon, I am sure your Bannerman are excited to see the armory and our exercise yard, Flowstone Yard. You can speak with your brother as much as you like, he won't be going anywhere." One could see that Lord Whent would take up any opportunity to give a tour to anyone who was willing.

"Come with us Ned," Brandon said. And so he did, the three of them followed Lord Whent to the yard, right behind them was Howland Reed, Roose Bolton, Jon Umber and Rickard Karstark.

"You've gotten fat…" The conversation muffled along.

* * *

 **F** rom atop, Catelyn Tully watched as her betrothed rode on his horse through the castle gates, jumped off his horse with such ease and greeted Lord Whent.

 _The perfect Lord._ She had thought to herself.

His shoulder length hair was tied halfway up, and the rest let out, his coat swung around him and from what she could make out he was wearing an elegant tunic that had two silver direwolves at the collar. Her father had blessed her with an honourable and handsome man; she would be forever grateful. She saw him greet his brother and the love they had for each other. She squeezed her sister, Lysa's hand tighter. They had rushed out of their rooms to catch a peak of the Northern party once the trumpet blew. They were the last of the parties to arrive, as it was expected, they did live quite far away. Though she was sure, Dorne was further. Speaking of Dorne, she noticed the Dornish bastard girl step out of the carriage after her half-sister Lyanna Stark. Catelyn was surprised that the girl had even been allowed to come, though she had heard stories of Lord Stark treating her as her own, even though it was rumoured his wife flung herself from a tower because of her. Catelyn did not know what she would've done with her husband came home with a bastard, though deep down she knew she would come to love the child. She saw a glimpse of the Prince as well; he was stood in front of his mother and father, his wife had been retiring for some time in their room, and was gazing down at the party as well. It was true what they said about him, he was freakishly handsome, and when he had arrived just a few hours earlier, Lord Whent seemed to faint. The King, to everyone's surprise, had come to. He looked in a bad way, in Catelyn's view. Fingernails untrimmed, hair that stuck to his face and looked like it had not seen water for some years and hooded eyes that could scare the bravest souls. She was sure she caught the young  _married_ Prince was gazing down at Lyanna Stark and for a brief moment looked towards the young bastard girl whose name had slipped her mind. She had also noticed the way the queen looked at the girl, her eyes following her up the steps and to the balcony as she began to greet the lords and ladies on the east wing of the rooms. Catelyn took one look down to the main courtyard, saw that Brandon had left with his two brothers and began talking to her sister.

"He was handsome," Lysa whispered giggling.

Catelyn smiled, she could not deny it. "And what of you? You are to marry Jamie Lannister."

Lysa looked to Jamie who was speaking with the bastard girl she knew to be Arianne Sand. "He has been talking to her for some time now," Lysa responded. "Does she not know he is betrothed?" she sneered.

"He is not fully yours yet Lysa, he can do as he pleases until the words are said," Catelyn said.

"He kissed her hand!" Lysa exclaimed huffing to her sister. A voice was cleared behind them, Lyanna Stark's voice. Introductions began.

* * *

 

* * *

 **A** t the middle of the two west and east balconies, the south one was occupied by the royal family. The Kingsgaurd stationed where east met south and west met south and in front of every door of the families rooms. No protections could be taken for the most influential people of Westeros. The family filed outside of their rooms, minus Princess Elia who had been tired from her journey and opted to take a bath and see herself to bed early. The King had stepped out momentarily, looking down upon the Northern party and scurrying back into his room. The Queen, however, had stayed close to the House, gripping the walls that kept them from falling. Waiting for the girl to step out, after three ladies had stepped out she had wondered if Rickard had prevented her from coming, but when she saw  _her,_  Rhaella's heart skipped one too many beats. She craned her neck to get a closer look at her, the girl looked at her surroundings, and Rhaella instantly knew it was the first time she had been outside of Winterfell. She was mesmerized by everything.

 _Or maybe I have grown bored of riches?_ Rhaella thought, laughing to herself.

She could not the child was a replica of her mother, except for those purple eyes. Those eyes that had separated her from just a bastard to a bastard who could be questioned. Rhaella hoped that the lords and ladies wouldn't matter the girl nor herself too much, she could not risk Aerys being upset during the Tourney, that would only lead to a bad outcome for just about everyone. The girl greeted Lord Whent and stepped back behind her older half-sister, timidly it seemed. Her half-sister was nothing compared to her. As harsh as those were, Rhaella thought them. The silly Northern girl was clad in Northern attire from top to bottom. She would roast under the sun. Rhaella shook her head. From then on Rhaella could only see the elder Stark girl and Stark boy doing all the talking and the group separating off into different directions. As she came up the stairs to retire to her room and greet the nosy lords and ladies, Rhaella saw her entirely. Pouty lips, dark hair, dark purple eyes that would inevitably cause gossip as soon as her door closed and kissed by the sun many times over. From the dress she wore, Rhaella knew Lilia was still alive and helping the girl grow into a woman. And from the way Jaime Lannister, the man who would not be ever satisfied with beauty, spoke to her, the way Rhaella saw how his eyes twinkled even from afar and the way the girl would nervously glance from here to there, she knew she was her mother's daughter.

* * *

* * *

 

 **R** haegar gazed down at the Starks, who all seemed to be staring back up at the balconies. The poor party looked as if they were pigs being chosen for a feast. Oh how he felt for them, the southern lords and ladies would tear them apart with their words. He had said goodnight to his wife who had gone to bed. Rhaegar remembered begging her to stay in Kings Landing, she had just given birth to their youngest boy, Aegon and he did not want her injuring herself at the Tourney or their journey to and fro. Maester Pycell had informed them that they would be unable to have another child, at least…Elia couldn't. A dragon had to have three heads. Rhaegar shook himself from his daze and looked down at the ladies stepping out of the carriage. He had taken with Lyanna Stark until another girl came out. Wearing a beautiful dress and a beautiful smile to go with it. He asked his mother about her.

"Who is that girl?" He questioned. His mother seemed quite taken with her as well.

Rhaella turned to him and tutted. "I know your intentions. Anyone but that girl," she responded.  _Or the crown will be riddled with more madness._ Turning back to the door that contained the man she knew would be the undoing of the kingdom, someday. She hoped her son would rule before that day, but she knew it in her heart that something was stirring. She felt it instantly once she came through those gates of Harrenhal. The sound it caused sickened her and almost made her faint. Rhaella was  _never_ wrong.

Rhaegar nodded his head staring back at her. If only she had not caught his eye, or what seemed to him his eye for the shortest moment ever and it had been Lyanna Stark's eye he saw and fell in love with, yet the Gods had forsaken him. Placing a creature who was untouchable yet so irresistible, the purple eyes would soo go up against the grey, and you could say they would have their joust. A dragon had to have three heads.

* * *

 **J** aime Lannister was never one to fall for a lady when he first saw her, nor would he say he fell for this woman when he saw her. He would say he flung himself to the floor, voluntarily. Cersei wouldn't be pleased, not at all. He loved his sister he truly did, but he was a young lord who was exploring the Lord, and like any young lord he was allowed the right to do just that. So when the girl chose him to greet first, who was ecstatic. Kissing her hand and showering her with compliments. He would not take his eyes off her dark purple ones. They were the most exotic thing he had seen, so similar he noticed, too that of the young handmaiden of the Princess. But this girl looked nothing like her, not one bit. The handmaiden, Ashara Dayne, had a mature beauty about her. Though like Arianne she did seem to hypnotize every man she walked past. She was used gold to Jaime. This girl was freshly mined, and her body showed the innocence that he lacked from his sister. He wouldn't have called it love, no. There was another word that his mind refused to let him remember. But he did forget to tell the girl to save him dance, her first dance. She blushed furiously before accepting and moving on to greet Lady Olenna Tyrell, who complimented the girls dress and talked ill of her sisters. Arianne seemed to giggle at the comment. Jaime's eyes followed her all the way into her room until the door was shut and murmuring of the purple-eyed beauty who had just graced her presence in the east wing of the rooms and washed over every man with a glaze of magic of some sort as Jaime was not the only man whose eyes followed her. He turned to the Prince whose hand was tapping furiously on the balcony, his foot restless. The Prince, Jaime had to admit was as handsome as the tales told. Silver hair that flowed around his face, purple eyes that matched the girls own. The Queen nodded her head to the gold cloaks who escorted her to her rooms and closed the door, standing in front of the door. The Prince nodded to Arthur Dayne, Jaime knew to be, and walked down the stairs of the southern balcony and made his way to the exercise yard. Jaime thought it best to join; he did not want to look weak amongst the Lords. He would keep the secret of his sudden taking with Arianne Sand, a very close secret. Cersei would kill the girl if she found out. Or she would kill him. Jaime liked Arianne alive. Jaime liked Jaime alive.

* * *

 _ **A**_ nd poor Lyanna Stark, she had hoped this would be the time that Arianne would be seen as some foreigner and she would be focused on. But in the back of her mind, she knew this was going to happen. She was left on the side of the balcony that housed Lysa and Catelyn Tully, Bethany, Maege, Lady Olenna Tyrell, Lewyn Martell, Gerold Hightower, Jon Connington, Cerci Lannister and many other ladies. Arianne had won the lottery it seemed, her room was right near the King and Queens, the Prince and Princesses, Jaime Lannister, Mace Tyrell, Lyanna assumed her brothers rooms would be there as well as there were no more available rooms in the west wing and she swore she caught a glimpse of Jon Arryn, Oberyn Martell, Yohn Royce and a mixture of Freys and Dustin's. Lyanna had seen the interaction Arianne had with Jaime, and something grew in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't wait to meet Robert and rid herself the feelings of jealousy that plagued her. She stepped into her room, a room made for a giant, and shut the door behind her after her handmaiden had stepped in.

"Let's get ready for the feast!" the young handmaiden squealed. Lyanna sighed internally. It was midday; the feast was at nightfall.

 _How much getting ready would there be?_ She wondered.

* * *

* * *

" _ **M**_ y lady," a timid little handmaiden had whispered behind Arianne. Arianne turned to the girl smiling.

"Not a lady, just Arianne," she responded.

"Arianne, follow me to your room," the girl smiled back turning around and leading the way. They were followed by a Northern guard who held Arianne's trunk with her belongings in it. Arianne bid farewell to Lyanna, who was being introduced to her handmaiden and did not bother with the other ladies, they would just ignore her anyway.

"So where am I to stay, next to my sister?" Arianne asked following the girl up the steps and to the rooms.

"Oh no, you are in the east wing. She is on the west, over there," the handmaiden said pointing to the other side of the balcony once they had reached the very top. Lyanna was being led t her room. Arianne did not realize that they were mere inches from crossing paths with the lords and ladies of the South and felt herself shake under her skin.

"Are they nice?" Arianne whispered holding the girl back to make her walk slower. She could see that Lyanna was already introducing herself to Lady Catelyn Tully and Lady Lysa Tully whose rooms seemed to be right next to hers.

"Everyone is mean to a handmaiden," the girl whispered back.

"Well, I won't be mean to you. I did not catch your name?"

"Oliva."

"What a beautiful name. I love it," Arianne responded. As they neared the middle of the balcony, the chatter died down, and whispers began. Her stomach lurched, she knew it, her dress was too much. Her father had warned her not to be too provocative though Lilia had told her to be confident in her skin. She looked at her and did not know whether to curtsy or introduce herself to them.

Thankfully she had Olivia to guide her. "Lord Jaime Lannister," she whispered.

"My lord," Arianne shyly said, her voice surprising her. She looked to the young lord who bowed back to her. He had grabbed her hand gently and kissed it, all the while staring at her eyes directly.

"Lady..?"

"Just Arianne. Arianne Sand," Arianne responded moving her hand away from his lips. The young boy was handsome, blonde of her and green eyes that could swallow you whole if you let them.

"Just Arianne Sand, it's a pleasure to meet you," he smirked.

"And you my lord," Arianne smiled back.

"Do you enjoy Harrenhal so far?" He questioned.

Arianne did not know the southern lords liked to ask so many unnecessary questions.

"I cannot tell yet, I just arrived," Arianne said letting out a small laugh.

"I wouldn't want to be the one stopping you from resting, I hope we meet again, not Lady, just Arianne Sand," Jaime smiled, his lips forming into a cocky smile this time though. The prize was in the bag. He moved closer to her and Oliva made a motion to step back to give them privacy. "Do save me your first dance. I wouldn't want to miss a chance dancing with the most beautiful lady present. I want it to be me who captured her eyes first."

Arianne blushed. Lilia did say they were good with their words. "I will try to remember." She whispered back before picking up her dress, turning around and following Oliva to her room. She could see herself falling for that one; she had to watch herself.

Only to be stopped another time by an older lady. "Lady Olen-"

"I can introduce myself thank you," The woman snapped at Oliva. "Lady Olenna Tyrell. Lady of House Tyrell and the Reach. It is lovely to meet you…finally." Olenna smiled.

Arianne bowed her head. "It's a pleasure Lady Olenna. I am glad I could be of acquaintance."

"And your dress-" Olenna smiled pulling the dress from underneath the coat. "Should not be hidden underneath  _that._  At least you have your Dornish taste I guess. Your sister was a fool to come dressed as a damn Septa." Arianne had to hold back her laughter. She reminded herself to spend more time with Olenna.

"Mother," a voice rang from behind Olenna. Olenna rolled her eyes and turned to her son.

"What? Don't you have a joust to practice for?" She questioned.

"You are pestering the girl, let her rest. We can call for tea in your room-" but Olenna cut him off.

"Tea!? And who will explore this ugly castle for me? I did not travel a month to have tea in my room. Out of my way boy, I'm going to see where Harren roasted alive." And with that, she was gone. Mace Tyrell sent an apologetic look towards Arianne who smiled back at him assuringly.

"Shall we?" Oliva sighed looking tired of the introduction already.

"Yes please," Arianne whispered, she did not want to deal with any more charmers or formal presentations.

Oliva led her to the furthest door, the one that looks straight onto the royal families own wing and doors. They had all retreated to their rooms, and the Prince was nowhere in sight. Oliva opened the door to reveal a large sized room. Arianne knew it was far too big for one person.

"Was this built for monsters or humans?" she frowned turning to Oliva.

"I just work here," Oliva shrugged opening the windows of the great room and dragging the trunk onto the bed. "Now, for the fun part."

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT EDITED. I just could not be bothered so there might be some grammatical errors here and there. I was going to include Oberyn and Arthur's point of views but it would've been like 8,000 words and that was too much. Oh my god. That took me almost two whole days to write what the hell. It's all cut from people's persepctives and their points of views. This is my SHORT introdcutions can you believe. Be ready for an even longer chapter next chapter. Things have just started. Take notes, I'm leaving clues about everything everywhere and their quite obvious actually. Anyways I hope it wasn't too confusing because I tried telling that characters exeperince and it was actually in like time order. Like Arianne spoke with Jaime four times because four different people talked about them talking no, she talked to him once we just see it through different people's eyes. Point of view but with a twist. Lots of love xxx Winta :) (Tell me what you guys think as well, because of my amazing idea giver Arianna, I may or may not include Arthur Dayne vs Oberyn? I don't want to make Arianne too Mary Jane though so I'll need some characters who hate her that are male)


	5. Intentions

**INTENTIONS**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

**B** randon hated introductions. He hated them with passion. But as the next Lord of Winterfell, he would have to go through many introductions, so as his father taught him, he smiled, bowed and memorized names. The feast had just begun, and he had been seated at his table. He was sat next to Lyanna, Ned, and Benjen, Arianne nowhere to be found.

"Have you seen our dear sister?" Brandon whispered to Lyanna. Lyanna shrugged. Her foot had been restlessly shaking ever since she arrived and could not make it stop. The entrance of Robert Baratheon was one she much awaited and assuming by the empty seat beside her; he would be sitting next to her. Lord Whent was a true plotter. Brandon turned to the double doors to see who had entered, Catelyn and Lysa Tully. He could not disagree with his father that Catelyn was beautiful, far more beautiful than her sister or aunt, Merida Whent. Though he would argue that she was not a great beauty to go to war for, she was fair enough. She would never undo the love he held for Arianne. Her hair was a delicate red, flowing all the way down to her bosom. Brandon couldn't help but look there.

Not the best in the world. He thought. I guess you really can't have everything.

His thoughts were interrupted by Ned calling out Arianne, who was being ushered to sit next to Stannis Baratheon.

He could not deny that even from behind she looked incredible, but since their night together in the tent, he could not stop thinking that maybe it was too wrong for him to have had feelings for her. He promised himself he would still love her unconditionally, but he would try and turn his attention to his betrothed or someone not Arianne for that matter of speaking.

"He'll bore her to death with his stories!" A loud, boastful voice came from behind them. The siblings turned in unison; the voice belonged to a tall, muscular young boy creeping onto the edge of manhood. His hair was shoulder length and like Ned, had it tied at the nape of his neck. Robert Baratheon. Lyanna could tell why he was a magnet for the ladies. Pink rosy cheeks, eyes full of laughter and black hair as dark as midnight.

"Robert," Ned smiled getting up from his seat and hugging his long-time friend. He had been excited to introduce them.

"Ned, where is my betrothed?" Robert whispered scanning the room.

"Look down," Ned responded pointing past his two brothers Benjen and Brandon and to Lyanna.

Lyanna sat up from her seat and curtsied. "My Lord," she said, her voice never wavering.

Robert scanned the girl, for a lifetime it seemed. Their table had grown quiet in the room, the Northern table. "My Lady," Robert said extending his hand as she placed hers in his gently and placed a sweet kiss on it. Brandon noticed how once he had been seated and the two truly began talking that he could not take his off Lyanna. He smiled to himself, hoping Lyanna was not hiding her true self and that Robert accepted her for it.

There was some movement opposite him and Arianne sat down. He saw her properly now. No coat on, skin glistening under the candlelight, eyes mesmerized by the sheer size of the feast. Brandon had to admit he was mesmerized as well; there were four large tables, all in rows that held at least three families and their bannermen. The stories told of Harrenha;'s hall was no lie, it did have thirty-five hearths, and it could host an army. But for now, it hosted hundreds of lords and ladies who were awaiting their food to come out and eying up everyone else, whispering to their families and companions.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Arianne smiled once she had looked all around the room.

"It's uglier than horse shit. But it's big; I'll give Lord Whent that," Benjen piped. Brandon turned to glare at his brother.

Arianne laughed shaking her head, "it is beautiful in a deformed, deathlike, dragon roasted way."

And Brandon kept his hand from hitting his brother for when he saw her he was sure, so sure, that all the love and infatuation he had for Arianne must've vanished or hidden somewhere behind his beating heart. The room grew silent as the royal family made their way to the head of the table to be seated with Lord Whent and his four sons. His sons reminded Brandon of Roose Bolton; only they had what Roose lacked. A smile and some blood in their veins. Lord Whent's wife, Shella Whent, sat next to the Queen. Brandon made a note to greet her as not to insult her. The family was seated, and the girl that Brandon's eyes could not stop but follow was sitting next to the Princess. She was tall, she couldn't have been any younger than sixteen, and had a beauty about her that froze the room. Her dark hair flew around her as she walked and Brandon could not help but think she was better than Catelyn, so much better than Catelyn. He almost became a dog in heat at that moment for he could not stop gazing at the girl with purple eyes, soft skin, and long hair. Tourney's were a gift from the gods.

* * *

 **L** yanna could not possibly stop her leg from shaking once Robert had sat down next to her. She had never known herself to be nervous around men or anyone for that matter, but the way that Robert paid extra attention to her made her shake like a leaf. He had kissed her hand when they were introduced, and she had begun to struggle to see how people could call him a whoring man, or even a drunk. When the cupbearer had poured his wine, he simply moved it in front of him and taken no mind to it after.

"So tell me Lyanna, how do you like the South so far?" Robert asked looking at her. He seemed unable to tear his eyes from her. Lyanna could not complain about the attention.

"It's a little hot," she responded honestly. Her handmaiden was forced to take out one layer from her dress once Lyanna had told her she would not be changing for the feast. She would have to wear one of her dresses, one she did not have made for the Tourney, that she had brought along for day wear.

"You dressed for the North," Robert laughed looking at her dress and then back at her.

"A mistake apparently everyone can't seem to point out," Lyanna smiled along rolling her eyes.

Robert could not help himself but continually fall for the girl that he was betrothed to. His father had done right by him, and he had won the gamble. Robert had heard that not too many ladies of the North were wonderful, but Lyanna had a rough beauty to her. Wild hair that was untamable and flowed to her waist, a soft face yet a hard exterior. He knew they were made for each other, or at least, he was made for her.

"You are in the South, they will point everything about anything to you," Robert said. "So tell me Lady Lyanna Stark, as we are to be married, what is it that you enjoy doing?" He had prayed that she would not respond to a simple thing such as painting or sewing.

"As we are to be married, I owe it to you, to be honest aye?" Lyanna probed raising one brow.

"Aye," Roberreplieded putting on his best Northern accent making Lyanna laugh.

"I enjoy riding and archery. Though my brothers used to love it when I practised sword fighting and I was their dummy."

The gods had blessed Robert. "That answer-"

"Was not one you were looking for?" Lyanna did not care if she betrothed thought of her as wild as everyone else did. She did not care. She most certainly did not care.

"Was perfect."

The room fell silent after Robert had said those words. The royal family had entered, and they were moving painfully slow. Lyanna wanted to talk to Robert more, and he wanted to talk to her more. There would be time yes after the family had sat down, but she felt like every moment that she spent gazing at the Prince, King, and Queen walking to their table, the more time she wasted.

"The Mad King," Robert whispered to her ear as they watched the King walk, or more like stride, to his seat in front of his son. He walked with a posture that Lyanna knew her septa would praise her for, and mumbled as he made his way to his seat.

Maybe the whisperings of his madness made him mad? Lyanna thought, watching the man sit down.

His son, Rhaegar, seemed to be scanning the room for something. Someone. Lyanna could not deny he was handsome, far more handsome than Robert. But unlike earlier in the day, she was undoubtedly falling for her betrothed and any feelings for the Prince, she was sure would vanish. Besides he was the Prince, every girl that set eyes on him would've been in love with him. The Princess would not join them for the opening feast. Lyanna thought of how tired the young wife must've been, mothering two babies after tales of her painful births. She had apparently become barren. Lyanna sighed, there was no greater duty and honour for a wife than to deliver children to her husband. Lyanna did not want that being her life. She did not want to perish the same way her mother did, of childbirth. Or the way she had heard Joanna Lannister did, delivering the child of Twyin Lannister into the world. She had heard the child was an imp and by the looks of it, he had not come to the Tourney.

"They say he mutters in his sleep. And makes his guard, Ser Barristan, stand guard outside his room every time he rapes his wife," Robert continued.

Lyanna turned to Robert, and then back to the royal family. They were now seated. The Queen, Rhaella seemed to be lost as her ladies in waiting chatted amongst themselves. The family sat next to Lord Whent, Shella, and their four sons. Merida Whent, who would soon become her good-aunt, was yet to be presented to the feasting high lords and ladies. There were four guards on each side of the high table where the King and Queen sat. Two Kingsguard and two of Lord Whent's guards. The Kingsguard wore white cloaks and were adorned in heavy gold armour. How Lyanna wished she could have her very own armour one day. But her father had warned her before she left for Harrenhal.

"I've let you run free for too long. You are to look to your sister and remind yourself of how a lady should present herself to the world." Rickard sternly said to her before they rode off.

Lyanna had to admit that her father was far too soft on her, too soft. But she did not question it and ran as free as she wanted, whenever she wanted. Of course, he would tell her to look to her sister. Her perfect bastard sister.

"Yes father, I will not embarrass you at Harrenhal," she had promised him hugging him tightly.

"When you come back, we will talk like a proper family. We have grown apart these years," he added to her stroking her hair.

Lyanna could recognize the two Kingsgaurd as Ser Barristan Selmy, and if Robert was right and he had to hear the King rape the Queen, she felt sorry for him. She had heard stories of how he was truly the greatest swordsman in the seven kingdoms and for a man of his status to be belittled to listen to the screams of his Queen was a great tragedy.

"That families more fucked up than mine," Robert said shaking his head as he watched them converse lightly with each other.

"Have you met mine?" Lyanna queered pointing to her brothers.

"Apart from your bastard sister, your family is just about the only sane family in this room," Robert responded.

Why? Why did he have to bring her up?

"My sister is sane," Lyanna smiled looking at Arianne. Her eyes quickly moved away from her half-sister. She had worn that dress. Earlier her decency was covered by a cloak, but now Arianne left all to bear for the world wearing the dress. It was low cut, and almost sheer showing her every moment underneath it. Lyanna did not know what cursed her sister to wear it, but it seemed that she had most of the eyes on her. Arianne was currently talking to Benjen and Ned, they all appeared to be laughing about something. At that moment the food was brought out, and a plate was placed in front of everyone. The best had been prepared. Boar, veal, stag's and soups of all kinds were placed at the centre of tables. Wine jugs were placed in front of each person it seemed and a new cup to go with it. Impressive was an understatement. Lyanna turned to her food only to find Robert had finished his first cup of wine and was pouring a second. She had either misjudged him, or he was just thirsty. She also saw his eyes dart from his cup to Arianne and then back to the table. Lyanna knew it was too good to be true. Before she could strike up a conversation with Robert again, to keep his attention on her, Lord Whent stood from his seat, followed by the King.

"My Lords and Ladies! I cannot thank you enough for joining me under my roof to celebrate my daughters nameday."

"And show off," Robert murmured. Lyanna held in a giggle.

"I would like to present my beautiful daughter, Merida Whent. A grown woman, ready for marriage and a woman with her honor intact," Lord Whent boasted.

There was loud cheering from all the tables as Merida Whent walked through the massive double doors. The girl was no great beauty, but like her sister Minisa Whent, and mother Shella, she had an air of prettiness to her. The girl was young, so young that Lyanna knew she was still ageing. Her father was far too excited to marry her off. Merida sat next to her father as the cheering and clapping died down, she seemed to be blushing considerably.

"And now we eat!" Lord Whent smiled slapping his cup onto the table.

* * *

 **J** amie Lannister watched as the girl who he had never stopped thinking or talking about sat herself down next to her family at the Northern side of one of four tables. Cersei nudged him indicating that he had stopped giving her attention.

"What?" he sighed rolling his eyes and turning to his twin.

"I said I'm so glad our evil little brother isn't here. Now we can do whatever we want whenever we want," she mused. Jaime's leg flinched at her touch as her hand came creeping up his leg.

Cersei looked at her brother frowning. He usually enjoyed sneaking around and did things that if caught they could be shamed for. Jaime had noticed how her hand stopped and he sighed gratefully, turning his neck to watch Arianne another time. He was sat with his back to her, and he did not mind if anyone, other than Cersei had caught him staring. Cersei's hand pulled off his leg altogether, and he huffed at him.

Usually, he would've found her irresistible in that red and gold dress, with her blonde hair flowing down, in a hairstyle that he never knew could even be made with hair. She emitted grace and beauty wherever she went, and Jaime was sad for the Prince that he was stuck with the weak Elia Martell instead of his sister. But their families had bad blood, ever since his father, Tywin Lannister insulted them. The Martell's travelled down to Casterly Rock from Dorne to propose a betrothal between Jamie and Elia, Cersei and Oberyn. His father offered the newborn monstrous looking babe, Tyrion, as a husband for Elia. The family was insulted and marched from Casterly Rock. Later they would offend Tywin by marrying their daughter, Elia to the Prince, who Jaime's father had offered Cersei to marry. He did not know how nor why the Martell's came to their home to propose a betrothal, but he guessed it was something to do with his mother who had passed a week earlier. She was close friends with the Dornish princess. Jaime looked to the Royal family who sat at their high table. The King. The King. The man who had dishonoured Jaime's mother at her wedding, his beautiful mother. She had been the Queen's handmaiden, but once Rhaella heard of her husband's infidelity with Joanna, which Jaime knew was a lie, she sent her packing home to Casterly Rock. He assumed the Queen to be a jealous woman if she had to send Joanna home. Though he did not know why she was beautiful. In a Targaryen type of way.

When the royal family had walked in, Jaime noticed the handsome Prince staring to Arianne in a way he did not like. He had taken a liking to the young girl he could sense. And after the family had sat down he followed the eyes of many of the married and unmarried lords in the hall; they seemed unable to tear their eyes away from her. When she walked through the hall, he only saw her walking away from him and to her table, and he noticed how they drooled over her. He could not wait to dance with her and show them how real men handled things. He smirked to himself thinking of all things he would do to the innocent girl.

"Are you listening to me?" Cersei asked looking to Jamie, who had his whole body turned from her.

"Cersei, has it graced your mind that I am not interested in how many ways we can fuck at the towers of Harrenhal? Now if you don't mind me, I'm going to dance," Jaime whispered to his sister. The music had just begun, a short while after the timid Merida had been introduced to the hall and the feast started. Cersei looked up at her brother, her face as red as her dress and turned back to her food. Jaime stood from his chair, brushed his hair back with his hands and made his way to Arianne. She seemed to be in deep conversation with her two half-brothers as even the clearing of his throat didn't stir her from the conversation.

Ned looked up from the table to Jaime, his hand moving to his sword. Jaime frowned but shook the thought. Maybe he was merely surprised. He said something inaudible and Arianne turned in her chair.

Jaime could not believe his eyes, and she wore a revealing dress that exposed her breasts and adorned her neck with jewellery. Her skin seemed to sparkle underneath the candlelight, and he couldn't have been any happier.

"My lord," she smiled standing from her seat.

Jaime's knees shook. "You promised your first dance."

"I don't remember promising," Arianne jested taking his hand as he led the way to the dancing space. It was right in front of the high table where Rhaegar and both the King and Queen could watch.

They waited for a new song to be played and took their positions amongst all the others who danced. Jaime pulled her closer with hand on her waist and the other gripping her own. For a man who wanted to hide his affections towards Arianne from Cersei, he did not do it well by parading his liking around and dancing with the girl. As hard as Jaime tried, he was unable to rip his green eyes from her purple. As they turned, he caught a glimpse of the handmaiden and Queen up close and did a double take. They both looked exactly like the girl he was dancing with. He looked down to her again. They conversed for a time and he whispered some things that he had willed himself not to but could not stop the words from slipping out of his mouth.

"Promised or not, you're still in my arms," Jaime finally said to her at the end of the song

"For a time," Arianne whispered once they were close enough and moved out of his arms, leaving Jaime cold.

* * *

 **O** beryn had sat behind as he watched the high lords and ladies of Westeros dance to the shit they called music. He was bored. He had made the travel from Dorne to find something, someone who was to his desire and the only girl he could point out was Ashara Dayne.

Been there. Done that. Oberyn thought to himself. He made a mental note to talk to his sister tomorrow morning when she woke. The poor thing was too tired to even lift her head up when they had arrived at Harrenhal. Oberyn remembered how the Prince, Rhaegar, had ordered Arthur to leave Elia's guard and instead come to the feast with him. Deep down Oberyn knew that Rhaegar had a hunch about their secret love. The silver-haired Prince was far too smart not to catch on.

Oberyn watched as Merida Whent chose her first suitor to dance with, She walked up and down the four tables gazing upon every single man that sat on a chair and even staring to Ser Barristan for a time. She came to Oberyn and stood in front of him. He inwardly smirked.

Of course.

Oberyn had to hand it to himself, he was handsome. He was seated at the last table, three away from the Northern party and alongside his Dornish people. They were joined by those from the Reach, the Tyrell's, and Baratheon's of Storm's End. Though he had noticed one of the three Baratheon brother's missing during the feast at their table.

Merida extended her hand and bowed to Oberyn. Oberyn stood from his seat as silence took over the hall. He looked up at the high table towards Lord Whent who had turned a sickly colour of white. The old Lord had suggested to his daughter that she dance with Benjen or Ned Stark, it looked like she had other things in mind. Oberyn took her hand and led her to the space that was emptied out for dancing. The music began and they were watched as they danced together. The girl was rigid, stiff and blushed at Oberyn's hand placement on her lower, lowest, point of her back. Oberyn loved it. He had enjoyed making women squirm and wriggle in discomfort until they gave in an outed their true side. The one that was feverish with lust and overcome with passion. He did not want to speak to her for fear that the lords and ladies would hear what he would say to her, once his mouth ran there was no stopping what would come out of it so he opted against it. More and more people began to fill the floor dancing with their husbands or lovers, Oberyn noticed Ashara dancing with Brandon Stark.

What was she doing with that brute? He thought to himself watching them converse lightly and dance. Brandon was much smaller than Oberyn had envisioned him to be, there were tales that the Northmen towered over Southerners. He looked like a little boy. It seemed like time flew past them because there was another song playing. Oberyn looked down at the girl, he swore at himself for getting lost in his thoughts and leaving her in silence.

"You dance well Lady Whent," he complimented.

The young ladies head snapped up to him, it seemed she was looking at the high table and talking through her eyes to her mother, who was pointing at Oberyn.

"Thank you, Prince Oberyn. You dance as if you're floating on air," she said blushing. Oberyn knew she had no contact with a man before this day.

"We Dornish learn to dance in water," he said smirking. He pulled the girl closer as they talked more, about her name day and how grateful she was that her father was throwing her such an elaborate festive Tourney. Oberyn agreed with her, the Tourney was rather lavish.

"I hope we talk more Lady Whent, I have enjoyed your company," he said smiling down at the girl. In truth, Oberyn just wanted to bed her and insult her father, who had insulted him by angering when he was her first chosen dance. Oberyn was one of unnecessarily big plans on revenge and once his mind was set to something, he could never leave the idea to rest until he had fulfilled it. Maybe this Tourney would be interesting for a few days? Apart from the jousting, that he knew he wouldn't enjoy.

"Of course Prince Oberyn-"

"Please, just Oberyn. Prince is so formal."

"Then you may call me Merida."

"Alright Merida," he said.

The girl laughed at his attempt to say her name. He rolled the r roughly and it sounded odd coming off his tongue. "I hope we talk more Oberyn," she said smiling.

Oberyn laughed along with her. The song came to an end and Oberyn pulled her closer, so close she felt her breasts go flat against his chest. How he had missed the feel of a woman. He had not encountered one since Dorne. He felt her heartbeat speed up and knew that her eyes were trying to find her parents. He had turned her to face the four large tables and himself the high table. Staring at her father he whispered in her ear. "I hope you will give me your company tonight? It seems I lack friends at night." He saw her fathers hand clench and her brother, who was the only one of the four brothers that had chosen to stay at the table, hold his sword's head. Oberyn winked up at them. Once he kissed Merida's hand and bid her farewell he turned to the most glorious sight in all his days.

A purple-eyed beauty, dark hair and a body that made his blood rush. And she was dancing with a Lannister.

Oberyn wondered what a girl, who looked Dornish but had not travelled with his party, was dancing with Jamie Lannister. She whispered something into the Lannister boy's ear and glided away back to her table. The Northern table. He did not know that the North could produce such beauties. Oberyn knew that he simply had to talk to the girl who had enchanted him.

* * *

 **"A** nd then he fell off his horse!" Arianne exclaimed. Ned laughed as he hit his brother, Benjen's back and clutched his own stomach.

"Shut up Arianne," Benjen whispered turning a peachy red colour and fiddling with his thumbs.

"So tell me Ned, has any woman caught your eye?" Arianne asked looking at her half-brother as the food was set up in front of them. Another cup of wine was placed in front of her and she took a long sip.

Ned looked at his food shyly and shook his head. "Our dear brother is rumoured to have become more of a silent wolf," Benjen laughed now tapping his brother on the back.

"Silent wolf?" Brandon frowned excusing himself from his conversation with lord Arianne did not know the name of. "Don't worry brother, by the end of the night you will be dancing with the most beautiful lady here," Brandon whispered to his little brother and ruffled his hair and standing from the table.

The four ate and talk for a while, Arianne smiling to her older sister who was in deep conversation with her betrothed. There was a voice cleared behind her, Arianne ignored the sound assuming it was not meant for her. But when she saw Ned hold the head of his sword. She turned and was met by the glorious Jamie Lannister.

She stood from her seat excitedly, her heart racing. "My lord," she beamed.

"You promised your first dance," Jaime said smirking at her.

Arianne frowned. "I don't remember promising?" Arianne smiled taking his hand as he led her to the dance floor.

They waited until the current song was over and joined the other dances. It was already quite full but some left freeing up space. It was larger than Arianne had expected, with more than thirty couples fitting freely on the floor.

The two talked and flirted.

"I want to come visit you later?" Jaime smirked freeing his hand from hers and brushing it through his hair. She loved it when he did that.

"Come visit me where?" Arianne asked, raising a brow.

"In your room of course."

She laughed at him. "Try and I will have my brothers stand guard at my door."

Jaime feigned shock and hurt. "Ouch, I just wanted to come and see you again is all."

"You will see me for ten days."

"Ten days is an awfully short time and I intend to spend it all with you."

Arianne blushed as they continued to dance.

Soon enough the son came to an end and the moved away from one another, bidding farewell to him she turned to her table. He was handsome but the way he flirted with her told her something else. She did not want to give him too much time to talk, Lilia had warned her of that. Though when they were dancing she had done nothing to stop his hand from roaming too far down. She had noticed how when he had placed his hand too low on her back and twirled her to face the royal table the Queen had been watching the two dance and seemed to hide a small smile. She nudged her son who turned his attention from his food to the two, he did not smile. Did he disapprove of Arianne? Arianne bit her bottom lip and help Jamie's hand tighter. On multiple occasions, she had seen the young man's eyes glance at her breasts, and when he pulled her close as he told her of how he thought of her once she had retreated to her room and that he may or may not visit her once more in the night. Arianne smiled at the thought. Before she could sit at her table though she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned to see who had tapped her. It was a man, one with the sun-kissed skin as hers, brown eyes and dusty black hair. She felt her knees go weak. She truly understood Lilia now, Tourney's were a place for passion.

"Prince Oberyn Martell, of Dorne, my Lady." The man smirked bowing to her. He wore a golden cloak tied together with a black belt. The robe was adorned with the sun embodied on here and there.

Sunspear.

"Arianna Sand, your grace," Arianne whispered curtsying to him.

The young Dornish Prince lifted her chin to look up at him. He felt his heart almost die down. Her eyes, though purple like Ashara's, were darker and had specks of brown in them. Underneath her eyes she wore the coal that many Dornish women wore and her jewellery was most certainly from Dorne. Borrowed from Lilia of course, by which Lilia had begged Rickard to bring to the North. She had missed her home and jewellery was the first thing she thought of when she thought of herself at Dorne.

"You are Dornish?" Oberyn asked frowning.

"And Northern."

"Northern and Dornish?" Oberyn smiled.

"Aye. My father is Northern and my mother is said to be Dornish," Arianne replied.

Oberyn racked his mind for a memory of a Dornish bastard. "You are the daughter of-" he grew silent. He was not even supposed to know about it. How could he have forgotten? Purple eyes and brown skin.

"Daughter of who?" Arianne asked, her heart had skipped a few beats. Her father had always rejected her questions of her mother and if this was the closest she would get then so be it.

"Daughter of Rickard Stark," Oberyn said recovering from his slip up.

Arianne sighed looking at her hands.

Oberyn cursed himself for causing her sudden sadness and extended his hand. "Let us show these bores how the Dornish dance," he smirked.

"I have never known how the Dornish dance because I have never been," Arianne said laughing as she took his hand as he led her back to the dancing area.

"Then you will learn."

* * *

 **R** haegar watched as the lords and ladies of the Westeros danced, ate and drank together. He loved feasts. He turned to his mother who was smiling down gently to the dancers and then to his father who was muttering to himself yet again. Rhaegar had hoped that his father didn't come to the Tourney, mainly because he wanted to discuss with the other high lords' ways to bring his father, gently, from the throne. For Rhaegar feared his father was plotting something that involved the death of many and if he could convince the lords that his father was mad. He loved his father but even he couldn't deny is deteriorating mental health. Rhaegar clapped along as Merida and Oberyn ended their last dance and laughed silently to himself as the young Dornish Prince looked to Lord Whent as he felt the young lady tightly and said goodbye to her. He winked at the high table, bowed and walked back to his table.

"A true Dornish man," Rhaella laughed as she saw who her son was laughing at.

"My good brother is a gambler," Rhaegar said agreeing with his mother.

He continued to follow Oberyn with his eyes and saw him stop in his tracks. He was talking to Arianne. He remembered how his mother had told him that she, in particular, was out of bounds and he squirmed in his seat. He was sure he had just seen a flash of her as she danced with Jamie Lannister. He saw how Oberyn charmed her, how he smirked and smiled and made her giggle and laugh. Then he saw him lead her to the dance floor. Rhaegar had to admit that the dress she wore had reminded him of his wife. For a young girl, she had a body made of childbearing and her breasts made him want to sing sweet songs all night long. How he hated himself for only seeing her for her beauty and having not yet talked with the girl who had consumed his thoughts every time he even saw a hint of her. Oberyn pulled her close to his chest and Rhaegar imagined it was him holding her tightly by the waist and dancing with her. Rhaegar had to hand it to Oberyn, he knew how to dance in ways Arianne did not. She seemed to be following his movements. They spoke as they danced and moved like the mystical creatures in tales of mermaids. Her dress clashed wonderfully with his golden robe and her hair flowed like a waterfall. Her eyes would speak against the candlelight every time she would turn to face the high table and Rhaeger could not be more conflicted whether he was angry at Oberyn for feeling her body in ways he did not know why she was allowing him in the view of such critical lords and ladies or happy that he was putting on a show for him.

Oberyn caught his eye and whispered something to the girl, causing her to turn around briefly and catch his eyes. Purple met purple for the second time that day.

Now Rhaegar knew that Oberyn had known of his certain affection towards her and began taunting him. The rings on his fingers shining under the candlelight as his hands swayed around her back and gripped her waist. Rhaegar's blood began to boil, slowly, she was not his to get angry about. But once the dragon chose the mother of his baby dragon, there was no saying that a mother, other lovers and even status could keep him at bay.


	6. Purple & Purple

 

**PURPLE & PURPLE**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal**

* * *

 

 **C** atelyn Tully had no idea why but she seemed to have a disagreeable taste in her stomach. A feeling that she was being ignored. By her betrothed. The hours that he had been at Harrenhal, Brandon had not bothered to introduce himself to her. To say she was insulted was a down statement. Catelyn had practically starved herself for this very occasion, and he was paying her no mind. Catelyn had been reassured and complimented by many high lords of her beauty.

Maybe Brandon prefers a whore's beauty to that of a ladies? She thought to herself. She damned herself; she had no right to insult those who had done no wrong to her.

"Cat," Lysa whispered pointing to the dancing area. Her slender finger was directing Catelyn's eyes to Jaime Lannister who was dancing with the bastard girl, Arianne Sand. Catelyn still had no idea why the girl was even present at such an event and if that had at all insulted Lord Whent? From the looks of it though it didn't. Catelyn overheard Lord Whent's sons talking about the young girl.

"Father wants Merida to dance with the two little Stark boys first; I'm getting a hunch he wants to marry her into Stark-ism." One of the brothers said causing the others to laugh. They had been preparing for the feast in the shared grooming room that Catelyn had managed to stumble across.

"Fuck the brothers. I want their sister," another exclaimed.

"She's betrothed, idiot."

"Not Lyanna. She looks like a boy with hair. The other one. The one they're calling Purple Maiden at the armoury yard."

"Isn't that the handmaiden of the Princess?"

"The bastard girl. Can't believe you haven't heard about her. Jamie Lannister was talking about dancing with her first, having her in his trap and charming her and blah blah. You'd think the cunt was in love."

"That whore," Lysa whispered clutching at her sister's arm.

"Enough Lysa. They merely danced," Catelyn said her voice stern. She had had enough of her sister's constant bad mouthing of the young girl. She had done no wrong to Lysa except for being more beautiful than her.

The two sisters continued watching others dance for a time until Catelyn's shoulder was tapped. She spun around and there he stood. Suddenly she had forgiven him for ignoring her and coming to introduce himself so late. She couldn't deny how handsome he looked, in a rough way. He wasn't clean shaven, his hair was tied to the nape of his neck now, and his cloak was off. She could see the tunic that was embroidered with twirls as it stretched against his large shoulders and the direwolf metal pieces that clipped the tunic together. He was much taller than her, towering at least a foot taller and twice her size in weight.

"It seems my father has done right by me and matched me with beauty," Brandon Stark said. He didn't smirk; he didn't smile unnecessarily as the Southern lords did. Instead, he looked down to Catelyn, bowed his head respectfully and kissed her hand.

"My Lord Stark," Catelyn said taking his hand and standing from her chair. She tried to keep her voice as steady and confident as possible.

"Lady Tully," Brandon responded. "Would you do the honour of sharing your first dance with me?" He asked.

Shouldn't we get to know each other first at least? Catelyn thought, looking to Lyanna and Robert who had been held in conversation since the moment they met.

"It would be my pleasure, my lord," she smiled allowing him to lead the way to the dance space. She supposed dancing was a way to get to know him.

Brandon let her hand go and placed his right hand on her waist. They waited for the music to start and once it did, began dancing.

"You dance as if you were born to do," Catelyn laughed gripped his hand tighter; his steps were a little too big for her small feet.

Brandon smiled down at her. "You can thank my Septa threatening to tell my father of my two left feet."

Catelyn let out a small giggle. "I can only imagine you as a little boy tripping over your feet."

Brandon cringed, "it hurts when I think of my harrowing childhood."

They continued talking as they danced, Catelyn was glad they had something to distract them when the conversation died down.

"My father has mentioned we will be coming to Riverrun soon, for a wedding." He mused, bringing her closer as the floor became full of dancers.

"And who's wedding is it may I ask?" Catelyn prodded. She did speak with Petyr's whore's and learn how not to flirt.

Petyr. Catelyn thought to herself.

He had stayed back in Riverrun on her father's orders, before their departure he began to act irrationally and profess his love for Catelyn at random times. He had promised her that he would be there for the last jousting day and she had worried for him. A small, skinny, short boy amongst all these high lords who were all much larger when compared to him. She felt for the boy, she did. But she could not force herself to love a little boy when she had a man standing right in front of her. He was her closest companion, and that is as much as she thought of him.

Petyr Baelish, my closest friend who knew everything about me.

"Some lord and lady, or so I've heard," Brandon laughed, Catelyn joining him.

"It will look very similar to this; it is a week after the Tourney is it not?" Catelyn asked Brandon, nodded. She had not remembered how close it was until she probed her mind. In seventeen days she would be a married woman. In a year she would, could be a mother. In ten years she could be the Lady of Winter.

Catelyn Stark. It had a nice ring to it.

"Then I assume it will be exactly like this. Only I'm afraid our hall is not as spectacular as Harrenhal's," Catelyn admitted. She caught a glimpse of her younger sister dancing with Jamie. She smiled inwardly to herself.

"Only we will be the main attraction," Brandon smiled. Catelyn couldn't hold back the smile that was forming on her lips. Though Brandon's was dying down. He had just spotted Arianne dancing with the Red Viper, Oberyn Martell.

Catelyn turned her head to see what had caught his attention. "If you are worried about her, do not be. She is a woman grown who can fend for herself." Understanding Brandon's worry for his baby sister.

"I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about her with him," he replied sternly, almost brushing her statement off. Catelyn didn't respond. Instead, she stayed silent as she watched him watch them.

His hand clutched hers tighter, and she saw the young Dornish Prince make quite a scene of himself in front of the Prince Rhaegar, fondling the girl. It seemed they weren't the only ones watching. Catelyn saw her sister free her hands from Jaime's as she huffed at him for staring at the young girl for too long, she saw the way the Kingsgaurd, Ser Barristan Selmy looked at the girl from his post in an almost longing way, she saw how Brandon stopped dancing altogether and gripped the sword that was placed at his waist and she saw the way the Prince himself, Rhaegar, gripped his chair handle tightly looking at the two dancing. Catelyn knew that Oberyn had no care that he was causing such anger in the hall and fact she wouldn't have been surprised if that was his true intention.

The song came to an end, and Brandon turned to Catelyn. "Sorry, my anger gets the better of me at times," he admitted letting go of his sword head.

Catelyn nodded in understanding. She would've been angry too if someone was parading her sister around like so.

"I hope to see you soon future wife," he whispered gently kissing her cheek. "For now, I must keep up appearances and make sure my bannermen are behaving themselves."

"You know where to find me," Catelyn smiled bowing to him and heading back to her table. She was sure her face was as red as the wine that was being served.

* * *

 

 **A** erys was never one for feasts, balls or even damn Tourneys. But that plotting son of his had forced him to grace Lord Whent with his company at Harrenhal.

Trying to uproot me from my throne, steal my crown and my kingdoms.

He watched as the ladies and lords, or so they called themselves, danced and drank their heart's content. He looked to his son and wife who had been doing just the same as him. They were all so clueless. So clueless. Their useless feasts and laughter would soon be drowned out by winter. He followed his son's eyes, that boy was more adulterous than he had been. He laughed to himself remembering all the nights he and Joanna Lannister shared. He remembered how after his jealous little wife found out she sent her home. Aerys had to find a new play toy, and that came in the package of Serene Dayne. The beautiful, dark-haired beauty who had graced the walls of the Red Keep. She was a handmaiden for the Queen, just as her daughter was a handmaiden for the Princess. Hours passed, and Aerys was still thinking of his favourite ladies, Joanna and Serene. He would never meet women has beautiful and soft like them. Not even his wife, his sister, his half. He remembered Joanna's blonde hair and green eyes that would gaze at him every night they would lay together. He remembered how he had seen her daughter and she was a replica. He would not let his son marry her. When his mind was still with him, which Aerys knew it was not any longer, he knew that the girl would attract him too much and he would not be able to resist her. And she and Twyin deserved better than be insulted a second time.

Not that I'd mind one night. He thought. A soft laugh escaped his lips. He saw the looks the lords and ladies gave him. He must've looked exactly how they were told he would look. Silver hair that he refused to wash, unlike his wife or sons who had silky, shiny, silver hair. And a face that was once handsomely riddled with wars and the stress of ruling seven kingdoms.

He remembered how Serene had also been sent home by his wife, to Dorne. Not before he could get to her though. They shared one sweet night together before Rhaella found out the news, was insulted and sent the girl packing back to Dorne, where Aerys heard she'd died.

Another traitor. Aerys head snapped to his sister wife. There was no love in their marriage, becoming violent once or twice. Aerys knew Rhaella feared her brother greatly, but could not do much to keep herself from him. In the Red Keep, they were able to avoid each other as they wanted, though he did go to her after one of his many burning trials. But in Harrenhal, the idiotic Lord Whent had placed them in the same room to sleep in, which caused Rhaella to instantly snap at the Lord and request another room, which she, of course, was granted. The room right next to him. They could never escape each other. They were expected to dine together and sit together at all events.

How he hated these pompous lords and ladies.

One day. They'll get what's coming to them.

There was movement from opposite him, and he saw Ser Barristan Selmy call forward the Northern table, the boys he knew to be the Stark boys, a girl he knew to be the Stark girl and another young girl, her face he could not make out, through the many faces. He saw her clamber up the steps after the four siblings, and stop at the high table where the group was introduced to Lord Whent's sons, fools all of them. One by one the bowed or curtsied to the King, Queen, and Prince.

"Brandon Stark, the eldest son of Rickard Stark," Barristan said standing at the end of the line next to the young girl.

Rickard. How Aerys had missed his friend, Rickard had been a loyal supporter since Aerys could remember and never once made notions of going against him.

"Eddard Stark, second son of Rickard Stark. Benjen Stark, third son of Rickard Stark. Lyanna Stark, first daughter of Rickard Stark."

He looked at the four siblings. They were nothing special, the boys all looked like their father and replica's of each other, just shorter, skinnier versions as they grew younger. The girl was no great beauty; she had long thick black hair that if pulled back enough, would make her face resemble that of her brothers. Aerys waved his hand indicating that he acknowledged them, they bowed and curtsied again before being led off. Their conversation with Rhaella and Rhaegar cut short. Though the Lyanna girl stayed behind waiting for the younger brown-skinned girl.

"And, Arianne Sand, second daughter of Rickard Stark."

Rickard never told me he had a bastard?

The girl curtsied low when she reached them. His eyes almost rolled to the backs of his head. She was in front of him, flesh and bone. He looked to his wife, who was looking at him and then he looked to his son who gazed lustfully after the girl. Aerys was far too confused to understand what was happening.

Rickard created that? She looked far too similar to the girl he knew. Maybe they were more alike than he thought.

No. That is most definitely her. The gods are playing a cruel trick on me. The King stood from his seat; no one seemed to notice for the room was still full of music, laughter, and chatter. He ushered the girl closer with his hand. She looked nervously towards Barristan; the grey-haired man nodded his head. She shuffled closer. The young lady was dressed just as should be. Though there was something off about her.

Aerys turned to Rhaella. "What is that?" he muttered pointing to the girl.

"Lord Stark's daughter?" Rhaella responded frowning.

Aerys glared at her and then turned back to the girl. "And I've got a cunt." He whispered inspecting her face. Her scared purple eyes looked to his, wide open and almost screamed as they looked to his own purple eyes. Though compared to hers, his were dull and almost begging for death, hooded, their beauty shunned by the dark circles under his eyes and the pink around his eye.

He could not take it any longer. It was his mind being cruel to him. When he woke, the girl would look just as ugly as her siblings. He mentioned for Ser Barristan to follow him and turned to his wife. "Come." He said. The girl had aroused him, reminding him of the days he would fulfill himself with as much pleasure as he pleased and he needed that getaway once more. His sister-wife was the quickest way he could get that brief pleasure.

He saw his son turn his head from his mother and father, bring ring clad fingers to his lips and stare off into the distance somewhere. Aerys huffed to himself, said goodnight to Lord and Lady Whent and walked out of the hall followed by Rhaella and Ser Barristan.

* * *

 

 **T** he girl was more beautiful than Rhaella had seen. Her assumptions were made from either high above for from a distance. Under the candlelight, she seemed to twinkle and shine. She smiled gently to herself as she watched her dance with both Jamie Lannister and Oberyn Martell. The most handsome and highest named pair of suitors in the room. It had confused her, Jaime did not seem like one to parade around with a bastard. Oberyn, she knew to be different when it came to things like that.

She saw the way her son stared at the girl once she was dancing with Oberyn, almost as if she was cursing Oberyn to choke on his breath from his seat. She shook her head.

After I warned him anyone but her. Rolling her eyes she heard the song come to a close, Oberyn says goodbye to her and Arianne return to her seat. Her whole family sat there.

The perfect time to introduce her. "Ser Barristan," Rhaella whispered turning to her husband for a second only to see him in deep thought laughing to himself. She turned back to Barristan who now gave her his full attention

"Your Grace?" He asked looking at her and then the King.

"Call over the Stark's. And their bastard sister. I think introductions are in place, don't you?" She smiled.

Barristen nodded his head. They had grown closer over the years as Aerys became harsh. Barristen would be the one to nudge Viserys outside whenever Aerys would have an episode in the Throne Room, and Rhaella couldn't more thankful to the man who protected her child from seeing such things. No one else would put themselves at the risk of the Kings wrath the way he did for her.

"Of course," he replied walking off the high table. Rhaella nudged Rhaegar as the family stood from their seats and was escorted to the high table by Barristan. They introduced themselves one by one to the Whent children, then to Ashara Dayne, who already seemed to be acquainted with Eddard and Brandon Stark, then bowed low when they came to face to face with Rhaella and Rhaegar. Barristan introduced them name by name. Rhaella barely concentrated on the Stark siblings, she made small talk with the girl, Lyanna, but could not contain her excitement to meet the girl.

Aerys turned to greet the siblings, shooing them rather quickly Rhaella realized. Lyanna stayed behind to wait for her sister though.

"Arianne Sand, second daughter of Rickard Stark," Barristan finished.

Rhaella noticed how Lyanna stared at her younger sister, and how when walking down the steps Brandon, the eldest, turned around to look at his half-sister. A look Rhaella knew too well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, your Grace," the girl squeaked to Rhaella and Rhaegar. Rhaella smiled, she flicked her hand mentioning for her to come closer.

"Beautiful people make beautiful people," she mumbled looking at the girl for what seemed like a lifetime. Rhaegar on the other hand, she had realized had become taken with Lyanna Stark and was making small talk with her. Though his eyes would dart to Arianne from now and then.

He thinks he's slick. Rhaella thought to herself. She turned to Arianne. "How are you, child?" Rhaella questioned holding out her hand for Arianne to hold. The girl held it, softly, not wanting to hurt her Queen.

"I am well my Queen, and you?" she asked smiling back at her.

Rhaella almost cried. How could they have kept such a thing cooped up in the North for so long? But she had to admit, Lilia and Rickard were doing well to raise her. She seemed stupid though, and Rhaella meant it in the nicest way possible. She seemed as though all she was thought was the art of being a wife, unlike Lyanna who to Rhaella looked wild and unstoppable.

"I hope you are enjoying your feast. It seems you have caught the eye of many suitors," Rhaella smiled.

"Oh aye, but I'm sure I'm just a face to them. I am after all a bastard," Arianne said biting her lips.

"And Oberyn Martell cares of a bastard?" Rhaella questioned turning her head to the side. She saw Arianne's face light up slightly. "I want you and your sister to join me for tea tomorrow with the other ladies, ask your handmaiden to take you to the tea room and she will bring you. I hope to see you at the joust as well. My you are far too beautiful to be hidden from the lords and ladies of the south, how I wish I could package you in a trunk and carry you around with me." It seemed the last words had scared the girl a little as she looked wide-eyed at the Queen. Before Rhaella could excuse herself for rambling, Rhaella heard her brother-husband's voice hitch in his throat, and his body rises from his seat. He must have recognized her, and his madness must have amplified her looks.

"What is that?" he asked Rhaella, a sour look on his face.

"Lord Stark's daughter?" Rhaella responded.

Her response was thanked with a glare and a whisper of something she was unable to hear. Rhaella watched as he told the girl to come closer to him and how the girl did, but not willingly, and how he inspected her face for a time. The King looked back to Ser Barristan and then to his wife. "Come," he demanded.

Rhaella felt her throat hitch in her throat. She was worried about what he would do to her; he had not burnt anyone, had he? So he wasn't aroused. Maybe he wanted to question her about the girl? She did not know, but Rhaella did not want herself to fear him. So she held her head high, stood up from her seat and bid farewell to the two girls, her sons and the Whent's.

The music started, and Rhaella turned to see her son asking, "May I have this dance?" She smiled to herself. Always the charmer.

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I've got three more characters to show you the point of view of, Rhaegar, Ashara, and Arthur. I realized Elia was sleeping and her point of view would be just her snoring so sorry about that slip-up. Next chapter is the last chapter during this feast; it's been hell writing the same thing in different people's eyes ugh. I cannot wait until you see what I have prepared, it's Geordie Shore but in a game of thrones version if I'm honest. Also, who do you guys think Rhaegar asked to dance?


	7. Whispers

 

**WHISPERS**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

**T** hey called her the Purple Maiden. Ashara laughed at the thought; the girl couldn't have been any older than four and ten, two years younger than herself. Ashara knew the way the men looked at her; it was a look she was used she did not recognize the glazed look that many of them held, almost as if they were not in control of where their eyes took them. She had been reminded of her exotic beauty that she had inherited from her mother, Serene. The mother who Rhaella Targaryen had ripped her apart from by locking her up in the topmost tower of Starfall, the Palestone Sword. And how there were guards outside the door day and night. She remembered how her mother would slip out notes assuring Arthur and Ashara she was okay and had merely taken ill. She remembered how they were awoken by her screams one night and told of her death the next morning. It was horrible. How Arthur had told her what he saw, three brutes killing ten of their guards for no reason it seemed. Ashara would never forgive Rhaella for not allowing her to help Serena. Even though she was a child, she knew that something could be done for her.  _Anything to have kept her alive._

On the night of the first feast, Brandon Stark, the handsome young Lord approached her. It was technically formal as of; he had snuck up behind her as she watched the dancers and laughed along with her brother. She had been mesmerized at how Oberyn moved with the young Whent girl, almost fusing his body with her own and moving her as if she were his. She envied the woman that stole the heart of Oberyn, though she knew he would struggle to stay... _faithful._ She watched as the young Prince watched Arianne dance with the Lannister boy, almost jealously, how Rhaegar turned his head when he saw Jaime pull her closer and the girl laughs and smile at his words.

"The most beautiful girl in the room standing in a corner alone?" He said smiling, arms crossed and staring down at her.

Ashara rolled her eyes. Could he have been a little more original? "She seems like the most beautiful girl in the room," she responded. Her Dornish accent made Brandon lightly groan. How was he going to keep his hands off of her? How was he going to do anything without Catelyn finding out now?

"Well I can't find my sister attractive can I?" he questioned.

_Liar._ Ashara thought to herself. She had seen the way the young lord had looked at the girl when they arrived. She had seen the way he had refused to let her out of his sight; he was infatuated with her. Ashara was no fool; it was obvious from the small bump on the girl's lip and his own bruised ones that something had happened. "In Dorne, there is nothing wrong with a brother loving a sister. A bastard sister is even better."

She saw the way his eyes flickered over to Arianne and how his jaw clenched. How the gods had forsaken him.

"I came here to ask the most beautiful girl in the room to dance with my brother." He pointed to the young boy who had been sat silently alone at the table. His sister seemed to be occupied in a conversation with the young Lord Baratheon and his brother with Howland Reed.

"And what do I get for this favour?" Ashara questioned turning to Brandon.

"Meet me in front of my room; I'll leave the door half open." And with that, he was gone.

Arianne spun around, but it seemed that he had vanished into the darkness, she sighed and looked to Eddard Stark. He was now drinking wine, saying something to Howland. She could not deny it, Brandon had intrigued her and his boldness to ask her to meet him in his room had excited her. Maybe it was the shit wine they served that got one drunk in a second, or maybe it was the fact that she was alone this entire damned Tourney. Her closest companion she knew would be spending her days with the Queen and her nights in bed. Picking up her dress she made her way to Eddard. Tapping the young lord on the shoulder, she seemed to have caught the wrong mans attention.

Howland stared up at her, almost hypnotized. Ashara loved having that effect on men. "My Lords, might I steal away Eddard for a moment?"

His younger brother squeezed his shoulder staring up at Ashara, whispered something that made Eddard glare and turned back to Howland.

Eddard stood from his seat. "My lady," he said bowing to her. Ned couldn't have been more confused.

_What was the most beautiful girl in the room doing speaking with him?_

"Would you care to share this dance with me?" Ashara asked him, curving her lips into a smile.

Ned became dizzy, almost. He was sure he had fallen in love with her the moment her eyes met his, he was also sure that the girl he was talking to was Arianne until she opened her mouth to reveal her Dornish accent. He blinked at her. "Forgive me; you remind me of my sister so much."

"To foreigners, the Dornish all look the same," Arianne shrugged taking his hand as he led the way to the dancing space. Oberyn was still dancing with Merida.

"Just as I suspect you wouldn't be able to tell my brothers and me apart," Ned said smiling back at her.

Ashara nodded her head agreeing with him as they began to dance. She could not help but notice the way that Ned would look at his sister from time to time during their brief conversation, she also saw how shy and quiet he had been. She had to be the first to start the conversation, though she liked being the dominant one, she felt bored of the little lord.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal away my sister for this one dance," Arthur's voice came from behind Ashara. She smiled to herself; he had noticed her boredom from the high table. He would always be there to save her. She could count on Arthur until her last breathing day.

* * *

**T** he young girl looked at her sister back to Rhaegar, nervously. Her sister nodded her head and walked down the steps of the high table, returning to her seat where Robert Baratheon had been waiting for her. "I've heard it is treason to say no to a Prince," Arianne smiled nervously looking to Rhaegar.

The young Prince smirked, bowing to her and leading her down the steps. The music seemed to be drowned out by the silence that followed.

_Rhaegar Targaryen, married, father, a Prince, first in line to the Iron Throne, holding hands with the same bastard girl who seemed to have captivated Jamie Lannister and Oberyn Martell._

Rhaegar's eyes searched the silent crowd for Oberyn, who stood at a wall, jaw clenched as he conversed with Merida Whent. Merida turned her attention at what her Dornish Prince looked so angry about and finally understood. Rhaegar winked at Oberyn who turned an ugly red, nudged the Lady Merida out of his way and made his way closer to the dancing space. He pulled her closer as Oberyn had done so not so long ago and she let out a small laugh.

"Your hands are... _adventures."_ She said.

Rhaegar smiled down at her, let his hand glide up her back and push her closer, pressing his chest against hers and placing his head inches away from hers.

_Chest to chest. Nose to nose. Palm to palm._ Maybe it felt odd to the girl, the only had just been introduced, but the eyes that had been staring at Rhaegar told him differently.

The music grew louder, slower and had more intentions of love in it. The musicians were on Rhaegar's side. The dance space seemed to clear; no _one_ wanted to miss out a chance to see the Prince complete his first act of tiny infidelity, they did not need to worry though, he would make a fool of himself for the ten days to come.

"Tell me about yourself, Arianne Sand," he whispered. There would be no way he would allow anyone to hear what he was saying to her.

Arianne seemed too busy to be listening to him. She was looking behind his shoulder to her siblings and then to those who were watching. She ignored his question. "Why are they so quiet?" She asked, her voice loud.

Rhaegar's eyes went wide, indicating for her to keep it down. "Because they love to know everything about everything," he whispered back.

"I see," she smiled lowering her voice.

Arianne could not deny it; he was beautiful. In a mystical type of way, his silver hair would move elgently as he danced, his robe was black and a red three-headed dragon printed right in the middle. It was held together in a similar way to Oberyn's, with a black belt. His hands,  _his hands,_ were adorned with gold, silver and black rings. Arianne could not help but be slightly aroused by his hands. Rhaegar could not deny himself nor the girl of the sexual tension that stood between them. He was sure she paid him no mind until he had asked her to dance or since his  _dear_ mother had decided to have Barristan introduce her and her family.

"I know it seems wrong, but it seems I have taken a liking to you Arianne," he whispered to her ear, pulling her just a little closer. So close she could feel him under his fabric.

Arianne blushed. "It is wrong your grace; you are married."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes. "You are a fool if you believe my wife and I have the love for one another. Few are as lucky as your sister and Lord Baratheon."

He spun her around, loving the way that her red dress twirled as he did so. The way her necklaces caught the light and seemed to blind him with lust. He took a mental note; he would write a song about her and perform it for her.

Once she had turned back to him, Rhaegar pulled her back closer. Unlike the other men, Arianne noticed how he did not take the mind to her opened chest, not knowing how much strength it took him to avert his eyes.

_Soon enough you will see all of her; a few moments sacrifice will mean nothing._

He had every intention of doing so as well, though he had not yet devised a plan as to how  _exactly_ he would be able to just yet. Like Brandon Stark, he could sneak into his room, but he had guards following him everywhere, more importantly, he had  _eyes_ following him everywhere.

The ruby crown that he wore on his head, unlike his fathers crown which seemed to swallow the King's head whole, was placed upon his head gently. It wrapped around his head and against his silver hair hypnotized those who looked upon it.

"And what your grace? You want me to wait for you at your chambers, be your bed warmer for one night and swear not to tell a soul ever? You mistake me. Three men have told me they loved me in three days, I may at times seem like all I am good for was to wife and bed, but I beat my brothers bloody many times and-"

"And you would beat your Prince bloody for simply allowing himself to fall in love with you?" Rhaegar whispered, smiling down at her.

Arianne looked up at him. The fourth man. How was it possible that she had split her heart into four different people and convinced herself that she had somewhat liked them all? She was an idiot.

She held her head up. "If that's what it took."

Rhaegar let out a laugh; it sounded almost like a sweet song. "If any of these men ever come to you and profess their  _love_ to you again, I hope you know that it will be their last breathing day," he smirked.

Arianne looked at him frowning. "Why have you taken such a liking to me, your grace? I am no Princess; I am not your  _wife,_ I am not a Lady?"

"If you had not stepped out of that carriage after Lyanna Stark if you had not looked up to me and caught my eye right after she did, maybe things would be different. Is it against the law for a man to allow himself to fall in love for the first time?" Arianne blushed, her skin turning a light pink. They were joined on the dancing space by others, Rhaegar sighed in relief. "Take air with me, Arianne Sand." He said stopping their movements and gliding towards the back door. It seemed their departure had not been noticed,  _yet._

They stepped out into the warm night; there were loud laughter and chatter coming from two yards away. It must have been the guards and handmaiden's having their fun. He held her hand tightly as they quickly made their way to where the carriages were housed. A stable for carriages. Arianne laughed to herself.

_A stable for carriages._  Arianne smiled to herself. All types of extravagant carriages sat, waiting to be used on the travel home. She had to admit the Lannister carriage was the most extravagant. Golden Lions shaped into the carriage with red manes made of sparkling jewels. Rhaegar swung the door open of one of the carriages and bowed to her.

"My lady," he whispered. Arianne looked at him and then inside the carriage. It was empty. Stepping in, she was followed by Rhaegar who quietly closed the door after him. "I've never been in one of these before." He whispered once again.

"Count yourself lucky," Arianne said shuddering as she remembered her journey to Harrenhal. She  _dreaded_ her journey home.

Rhaegar laughed at her statement. "Tell me about yourself, Arianne." He said once more.

"Myself? There is not much to tell. I am the bastard of Winterfell, raised to be a ditsy wife of a third or fourth son," she said shrugging. "it's quite depressing when you think about it." She added laughing. "I wish I was more like my sister."

"Lyanna?" Rhaegar questioned.

"Aye. She was always so free. She turned up to our lessons almost twice a week if our Septa was lucky. But father let her go everywhere. She was riding almost every day, and she was allowed to learn how to yield a sword, aim an arrow. I was taught how to flirt, how to raise a child and which Sigil belonged to which house." Arianne did not know what she was telling him this, he was the only man who had ever asked her about her life, and she was grateful for the opportunity to tell him. He was after all the Prince, and he would probably forget her once he returned to Kings Landing. All the while she spoke, Rhaegar could not help but stare at her, locked into her eyes as she talked about her home life. He did not know how he had even convinced her to come here with him; any lady would have denied him, thanked him and walked back to her table. Instead, this  _creature_ followed him outside, risking her reputation, to converse with him in private.

"If I may, my lady. Your sister does seem like an interesting character. I see myself having fallen in love with her. But I much prefer a lady to a warrior," he smiled. Arianne smiled back at him. She did not know if he was just saying that to better her mood, but she could not help but throw all thoughts of Jaime and Oberyn and  _Brandon_ out of the window.

"What are you doing your grace?" She asked sighing.

"Just Rhaegar will be fine; I think we have become friends by now."

"What are you doing Rhaegar?" The way she said his name was enough for him to want to rip her dress to shreds and take her right there in the damned Lannister carriage.

_That would teach Jaime a lesson._ He thought laughing to himself.

"I beg your pardon, Arianne?" Rhaegar frowned.

"With me? What are your intentions?" She asked.

He was dumbfounded. He didn't know what he wanted to do with her, well he  _did_ know what he wanted to  _do_ but how could he tell her that? It was too early; he needed her to fall in love with him. He needed to work harder to earn her heart in the following ten days. Rhaegar had to admit his time was limited but he was able to have ladies at his feet anytime he wanted, she would be no different.

"Why not my sister?" She pondered once more.

"Because she is betrothed."  _Lie._  When he had first seen Lyanna he was sure he had fallen in love with the older Stark sister, she had a sense of roughed beauty about her that captured him. But then he saw Arianne, and he refused to believe that they were sisters, let alone  _related._ For she was beautiful beyond words. Maybe he was exaggerating, but looking at her hurt him, knowing that he may not walk away from the Tourney with her in his arms. How he wished he had waited just four years to marry, the perfect wife was sitting right across him. And unlike Elia, he was sure she would've been faithful. He guessed a part of him was allowing himself a second chance at love, a love that was not planned by his father. He had seen his wife give a kiss to Arthur one too many times, and he was sure they had done other things while Elia was pregnant with Aegon.

"I still find it hard to believe that the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms wants anything to do with a bastard," Arianne smiled gently, unclipping her bracelet and rubbing her wrist. She left the bracelet on the seat next to her.

Rhaegar sighed, he did not know how to make her believe that he wanted her. All of her. He was tempted to tell her of the plans he had for her. To be the mother of his child, the mother of the Prince that was promised. How he wanted to lock her away in his room at Kings Landing and have her only for himself. No one else but he deserved to look at her beauty, and he wanted to make it known. But how could he? He would be framed as an unfaithful Prince. One who had no respect for his wife and the Dornish would be insulted. "Believe it or not Arianne, I want you to my own and my own only. "

"I am not your property," she said. Her tone suddenly changing into one of slight anger.

He pushed out his bottom lip. "Angry?" He said pouting.

She slapped his shoulder and then retreated her hand back quickly. "Forgive me; it's a habit to hit my brothers." She squeaked.

Rhaegar touched his shoulder. "You have blessed me with your touch; there is nothing to forgive." He said smiling.

Arianne's stomach fluttered, she felt that feeling once more. Though this time she wasn't hungry for anything, she wasn't burning, it was almost as if something was clawing at her heart, knocking at the door of her heart to open it and allow the young Prince into it. She looked at her fingers once more, remembering how distraught Bethany had been when Roose had danced with her at her name-day feast and shook herself awake from her trance. She could never forsake Elia to a life of pain, and she did not want to be the first woman he did it with. Then again he did mention how Elia was not in love with him.

"You are thinking too much," Rhaegar whispered kneeling in front of her. The second time a man had been on his knees for her.

"I don't know what to say from here on your grace. I have never been in this predicament."

"Neither have I," he whispered.

The carriage became silent; there was a thump from outside and laughter. Arianne slid the window open slowly and saw two figures run through the yard from the hall and disappear into an area she did not know of.

"What is it?" Rhaegar asked feeling his waist for his sword. It was not there.

_There goes my warrior legacy._

"Just two lovers trying to get some peace away from the hall," Arianne smiled closing the door.

"Like us," Rhaegar said. He could not take his eyes off her lips, which up close, seemed so perfect. Perfect for kissing, perfect for smiling, perfect for laughter, perfect for...

He cursed himself for thinking such dirty thoughts about her so early on. Though he did notice how her bottom lip had a small mark on it, had she been bitten. "Your lip," he said touching the spot.

Arianne looked at him wide-eyed touching the same spot. Usually, anybody would've been overcome with emotion if the Prince had touched them in any way, but she was fearful. She did not want him to know of her moment with Brandon. "You get nervous too much," he said laughing and running his fingers through it again, gently this time. Arianne laughed along nervously; she did not speak for fear of anything stupid slipping from her mouth. "Would you mind if I kissed it better?"

She looked at him, her eyelashes coating her eyes perfectly. Would he be able to get rid of that stupid feeling after that look she had given him? "I think that will hurt more," she truthfully responded.

_"I_  would never hurt you," he whispered brushing her hair behind her back.

"My father and handmaiden warned me of men like you," she whispered back.

"Your father and handmaiden were right to warn you."

"So I should leave?" She smirked making to get up.

His hands snapped to her thighs and sat her back down. "No. I say you rebel against those bores."

"Rebel? An odd word coming from a Prince's lips," she retorted.

Rhaegar laughed to himself. She was fashioned for the South and their word play, she had learned quickly. "So what do you say? Are we to rebel or conform to societies expectations and allow others to govern our lives?"

"You choose," she whispered back nudging his forehead with hers and placing her hands over his which rested on her thighs.

"I chose this," Rhaegar silently said placing a small kiss on her kiss. If he had not been kneeling, he would've been exposed for the man he was for that little peck had left him aroused to no avail. Letting out a small groan when she pulled away he opened his shut eyes to look at her purple ones. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

"You are comfortable?" she questioned, raising one brow.

Lifting himself from the floor and pushing her back to the seat, Rhaeger spread her legs and pushed himself in between him. "Are you alright with this?" he asked looking to her for approval.

She nodded her head. It seemed at that moment a spell fell upon him and his eyes glazed over, almost turning him into a wild beast as he pulled her closer to lay another kiss on her lips. She lifted her hands to pull his face closer, feeling his much talked about hair, smooth and silky, just like it looked. She must've fiddled with his crown a little too much for it fell off his head. Rhaegar laughed into the kiss. He moved away, picking up the crown and placing it upon her head. "It suits your head," he said. Arianne smiled, pulling him back into a kiss. He seemed to be carried away as he slipped the short sleeve of her shoulder to the side, then he turned to her other sleeve and pulled that down as well. He paid no mind to her hands which tried to pull them back up, moving her hands out of the way and slipping his finger in the middle of her chest just where the dress began. He tugged it softly and freed her breasts, and that was his undoing. Almost like someone else had entered his mind he kissed her breasts and left small bite marks here and there. He had never known himself to be able to perform such acts; he certainly did not with Elia the times they had slept together. They were soft and delicate,  _untouched._ Unbuckling his dragon clad belt he threw it to the side where it fell with a dull thump, Arianne pushed his robe off his shoulders, exposing his undershirt which she ran her hands under to feel his chest. He couldn't take it for much longer, ripped the shirt down the middle causing her to giggle slightly. He pulled her dress roughly, to her hipline and admired her. She had a beautiful body, he was never one for comparing women, but her skin seemed to light up at his touch. His pale stomach compared to hers looked like milk. His robe was still half on, half off, his undershirt was torn down the middle, and he still felt hot. She woke him from his thoughts by sliding her hand from his neck to his pants. His hand grabbed hers and lifted it above her head. Rhaegar lifted her dress, winked to her before pushing it back up. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, and he could not have been any happier. Spreading her legs wider he kissed her inner thighs, causing her quiet moans to fill the carriage. Messaging her thighs, leaving bite marks here and there he looked to her womanhood. He felt himself become bewitched and breathed slightly onto it, causing her to shiver under him. Arianne pulled his hair moving him closer, she smelt of sweetness and he could not stop himself. But as always, the gods were never on his side, and the carriage door swung open. They both turned to its direction only to have the door slammed back again.

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I went in too heavy on this, but I really wanted to show you guys how straight up STUPID Arianne is and how she is intimidated by men who have higher class and power than her. Also how her life is soon going to be based around her sexual powers and you'll just see soon i'm excited to finally get this damn show on the road. Hope you enjoyed and I'll update as soon as I can :) Lots of love, xxx Winta. Also who do you think saw them? Even I don't know so I'm excited to write about it hehehe


	8. Lesson One: Learn

**LESSON ONE: LEARN**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

 **"** **M** y lady, the Lady Olenna has asked you join her for tea before your tea with the Queen," Olivia said, opening the door of her room. She had just come back from her lunch and Arianne was still seated by the window. She had dressed Arianne in a simple, but respectful dress for tea, not wanting her Lady to be thought ill of by the other ladies of Westeros. She had heard the whispers of how she danced with Jaime Lannister, Oberyn Martell, and even the Prince. How the two vanished from sight soon after their first dance, how they whispered in each other's ears and smiled as they danced. How Rhaegar had paid the musicians to play him a love song to serenade the young girl and how he kicked the King and Queen out of the hall as so not to have any protests of dancing with her. Oliva had to admit that when bathing her that morning she had seen bite marks on her chest and thighs, but did not say a word fearing Arianne would be angry. She had been kind to her so far, more compassionate than Lady Whent would ever be, so she was grateful.

"Lady Olenna?" Arianne frowned, turning to Oliva. She had been watching the men practice for the joust that would be held that afternoon, she had watched Brandon unhorse all of the Whent sons, and Barristan unhorsed Brandon who in turn grew an ugly shade of red when Jaime Lannister laughed at him. She had seen how Oberyn had watched from the sidelines, declining every person who came to him by shaking his head. He had noticed Arianne looking down upon them, yet to her surprise; he made no motion to flirt or smile, he just turned his head and walked the other way. Far, far away from her window.

"Yes, she would like to…well in her words… _teach that stupid little girl a lesson before she gets herself killed._ Pardon me."

Arianne made a face, confused as to why Olenna would say such a thing. She got up from her seat and let Oliva guide her from her room to Olenna's room. She knocked twice, and the two were met with Olenna's handmaiden, who curtsied and moved aside to allow Arianne to come inside.

"Who taught you to curtsy?" Olenna said from her seat at the tea table. "That is the worst courtesy I have ever seen; I knew a handmaiden from Highgarden would've been much better suited. You can leave now Uma," Olenna said rolling her eyes. She turned to Arianne who was standing next to Uma; the poor girl had scurried away so quickly Arianne feared that she might trip on her dress. "Come sit," Olenna said smiling and pointing to the seat opposite her. "I don't bite you know."

"Of course, thank you," Arianne smiled sitting down as Olenna poured tea for her.

"Lemon cake?" she asked, pointing to the cakes that had been stacked up on a tray.

"Lemon cakes are my favorite," Arianne smiled, taking one off the tray and placing it on her plate.

"So I've heard," Olenna smiled.

"How are you this morning Lady Olenna?" Arianne asked, bringing her hands to the front of her body and resting them gently as she sat.

"How am  _I?_ I should ask how are  _you?"_ Olenna pressed pouring herself tea and then pouring Arianne tea.

"A little tired," Arianne responded honestly.

"Tired? Ha!" Olenna exclaimed. She turned to smile at the young girl. "You seem to have caused much chaos last night from what my son tells me? Dancing with Jaime Lannister, who is betrothed. Allowing yourself to be molested by that  _Viper,_  Oberyn Martell-"

"Oberyn is a kind man, maybe just a little overly passionate but-" Arianne interrupted, offended by the way Olenna was talking about Oberyn and herself.

" _Don't_  interrupt me," Olenna said shaking her head. Her graying hair flying around from the extravagant up do that she wore. "Now where was I...ah yes. Allowing yourself to be molested by that _Viper_ Oberyn Martell and sneaking off with the Prince...a married man." She said, arching one brow as she leaned closer to the table.

Arianne glared at the woman. "Who I dance with or who I take air with is none of your business."

Olenna laughed. "Take  _air?_ That what they call it now?" She stood from her seat and walked to her vanity mirror, she pulled out a box and sat back down at the tea table. "I do not care about stupid love; I care about my property being trespassed." She said. Opening the box, she pulled out a tiny red jewel and placed it on the table. Arianne felt her heart lurch in her chest; she was sure that it wasn't the Tyrell carriage they were in the night before.

 _When the two left the carriage, too embarrassed to continue, Rhaegar put his hand to it._   _"Jamie Lannister seems to have lost this joust," he said smiling._

_Arianne shook her head, took his crown off and placed it back upon his own. 'Perfect' she thought._

Maybe it was the darkness that made Rhaegar believe they were in the Lannister carriage. No matter how hard she tried, she could not convince herself. The carriage had a lion. Or maybe it was just a big rose? She did remember seeing a red mane, perhaps that was the rose.

"And from the look on your face, this pretty little jewel was sat upon the Prince's head when you were in my carriage, yes?" Olenna pressed.

Arianne sighed. "Aye." the word was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, my lady. Please don't tell anyone. We thought it was the Lannister carriage-"

"So the other man you danced with would have had his property trespassed and insulted?" Olenna snapped. The girl was as stupid as a baby pig.

"I only meant to..to.."

"Cat caught your tongue?"

"I did not mean to offend anyone!" Arianne exclaimed, tears falling from her eyes.

"Offend anyone? You're a whore. A whore with no whore money but still a whore."

"My lady!" Arianne cried, surprised she would even say something like that to her.

"Those are not my words child; they are the words of gossipers and no lives. You have inserted yourself into a dangerous game, in the most stupid way I have ever seen, but you have thrown your name to three men of high status. Three men who are nothing but  _men._ Let this be a lesson to you; the word love is a lie. A lie to us highborn, for the ordinary people yes they can fall in love, for these people. No. The only love they have is for themselves, so what are we to do now?," Olenna asked.

Arianne wiped her red eyes. Looking to Olenna, "what are we to do? Nothing that's what we're going to do. My handmaiden told me that Tourney's were a place where a lady could do as she pleased once the sun went down."

Olenna laughed, a loud cackle. "Your handmaiden is a handmaiden. 'Course she can do as she pleases. You cannot."

"Why not?" Arianne whined.

"Becuase that is not the life that was given to you. So suck it up," Olenna said, growing impatient with the young girl.

If any good were to come from the situation, it would be that a smarter bastard highborn girl knew how to navigate her way through life politically and strategically. "I won't tell anyone about your little...adventure with the Prince; it would do me little pleasure to see you punished for something so small as a kiss or what have you."

Arianne looked at her hands that lay on her lap. "May I be excused please?"

Olenna tutted. "Listen here Arianne Sand, and listen close. My son is a buffoon, I have no daughters, apart from his airy headed wife who would hit a rock to her head if you told her the prize for the most affected was a damned golden napkin, so there is no one I can pass my wisdom on to. Highgarden will go to shit with those two in charge, and though I'm not dead yet, nor is my haughty taughty husband, I want to teach you to lead."

"Why would I need to be prepared to lead?" Arianne frowned.

"Not to rule Highgarden, how would that work?" Olenna smiled. "I feel for you is all, and I do quite enjoy educating young ladies to use their brains."

"Thank you, but I'm not sure if that's necessary at all. I have my father who has taught me-"

"To sew? T write pretty little poems? To sing songs? How to smile? To walk and talk with beauty and grace? I am a lady like you Arianne we all take the same damned lessons. Locked away in our towers, scouring behind our fathers until they choose someone they deem suitable for us to marry, and then we give them sons and daughters, and the cycle goes on and on and on," Olenna said rolling her eyes. "Now do you accept my offer to be smarter? Stronger? And a chance to clean your father and brothers name?"

"My lady..I," but before Arianne could respond, Olenna clapped her hands together.

"Wonderful. You are to be my ward at Highgarden as soon as this Tourney is over. I will write to your father. If I am not mistaken, you have tea with the Queen," Olenna said. Arianne stood from her seat, whispered a silent thank you and met Oliva outside.

"How did it go?" Oliva asked looking to her lady hopefully.

"It went," Arianne responded wiping her eyes and her nose.

"Went….?"

"She wants me to be her ward at Highgarden once the Tourney is over. She said she'll write to my father, and I had no choice in it," Arianne sighed.

"Being Olenna Tyrell's ward is the best thing that will happen to you, trust me," Oliva said, rubbing her back.

"But I'll be so far away from my family. What am I without them?"

"Highgarden is a beautiful castle; the Reach is a beautiful land. Your family will be okay in Winterfell, and I'm sure it's until your father pairs you with a man," she sighed trying to reassure her.

Arianne knew that it would be the best thing for her, but she had a feeling Olenna had other plans for her. Plans along the lines of a greater Kingdom to govern than the Reach.

* * *

**T** ea was a quiet affair when Arianne had stepped in, Rhaella noticed how the room of six went silent. She had invited seven ladies to join her and Arianne was the last to show up, she seemed unfazed by the sudden silence, curtsied to her and Elia and sat next to her older sister. Elia was able to attend only because the tea was served in her room, to save her energy for a short appearance at the joust that would be held later that day.

"How was your morning?" Rhaella asked Arianne. The other ladies, Lysa, Catelyn, and Merida, seemed to cut her off from their giggles and hushed conversation. Elia, Rhaella, and Lyanna were the only ones who paid her any attention. Early that morning, Ashara had rushed into the room after her breakfast to inform the Queen of the gossips she had heard. Rhaella merely smiled to herself and made Ashara vow not to tell the Princess of what she had heard. She would make sure that any rumor about her son and a girl who held a special place in her heart would be crushed by next morning. Any soul who would be heard talking of it would pay with a finger.

 _That should teach them._ Rhaella thought.  _Or not._ She pondered. If she punished all the gossipers, she would be seen just as her brother husband was, mad and delusional believing everyone was against her.  _Perhaps we should let the rumors die._ She then told Ashara that Elia was to attend the feast that night if she could, dance with Rhaegar and prove to all those idiot lords and ladies that all was well. She had also slipped in that Oberyn and Arianne were excellent dancing together.  _There. If I keep Rhaegar away from Arianne the whole night, they'll think it was a one-time thing that is never to happen again._

"So I hear you have caught the eye of my brother?" Elia smiled. Her dark hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, her tiara delicately on top; one wrong move and that precious piece of jewelry would be in pieces. Her dress was a sheer golden one, Rhaella was very jealous that the Princess could have a child and her body seemed to bounce itself right back into place. She remembered how Aerys made her starve; he said he refused to have a  _fat_ Queen standing by him and laying with him after she had Viserys. She remembered how she forced food down her mouth out of spite.

She also remembered how Aerys had questioned her the night before. She had worn a long sleeved dress as to hide her bruises on her arm.

_"Who is that girl? And don't lie to me and tell me she is Rickard's bastard. Nothing like that could be made in the North," he sneered as the door shut behind them. She heard the clanking of Barristan's armor; he had whispered to her that if she let out a cough, he would come into the room and inform that Lady Whent was calling on her. Barristan was Rhaella's only protection from her husband._

_"She is a bastard," Rhaella responded sitting on the couch, Aerys following her and standing in front of her. She was so mad at him for allowing his beauty to fade away, at least then something good would be said of him. At least once._

_"So you're telling me Rickard fucked Serene when you sent him on that trip to Dorne to 'ally with us'?" He said, looking at her with one brow raised._

_Rhaella shrugged. "What Rickard and Serene did was between them."_

_"You sent him on the last day of the full moon. It takes nine moons to conceive and birth a child and almost three moons to travel from Dorne to the North. I may be mad, but I'm not stupid. That girl, you've kept her hidden from me. Why Rhaella!?" He shouted, grabbing her hands and shaking her violently._

_"Because of who you are. You would've had her head cut in half before she even saw the world!"_

_"You sent Serene away because she was pregnant with my child?" He let go of her, his eyes somewhere else. "Joanna, you sent her away because she was with child too. Do you know what this means?"_

_"I saved three lives?" she said snapping back._

_Aerys raised his hand and it hit her face violently. She felt a pang at the top of her brow, he was wearing his rings tonight. "We wouldn't be in this shit agreement with the Dornish, and they wouldn't be all over the Red Keep if it weren't for you. We could've married her to Rhaegar." He said, the rest of his sentence she could not hear. Her ears began ringing, and her head began to spin._

_"My daughter living with my best friend. And Rickard, did he know of this?" He asked._

_"No. I only told him the babe was to be fostered by him and sent to the Kings Landing once she had become women grown, to be a handmaiden for me." Rhaella responded._

_"Oh of course you would." There was a silence. "I want her to come to Kings Landing with us. She will be Rhaegar's second wife. That which Elia won't produce any more children for us and this one is young and fruitful. Her womb is ready to give her brother all the sons he could want."_

_Rhaella wanted to scream at him, remind him of the brother sister relationships that had caused the madness in their family, but how could she without him hurting her in one way or another._

_He had truly gone mad._

_"Undress," he said walking over to the bed. Rhaella let out a loud cough, and Barristan pushed the door open. "Close the door Ser Barristan, you know better," Aerys said marching to the door and slamming it shut in Barristan's face. The last Rahella saw of him was his apologetic face. She knew he would never forgive himself, but she would always forgive him. Afterall, not even a Queen could rule a King. Aerys turned back to her. "Have you turned into a fish? Would you like me to show you how to undress?" Aerys whispered nearing her. Rhaella did not want his hands near her, or his hair which smelt of something revolting. It was almost as if her body had frozen, he tore the dress from her body, and her underskirts threw her crown to the floor and pushed her to the ground. "A Queen or a bitch? Which will it be tonight?" Rhaella shivered. The only thing that kept her from crying out was to imagine the many ways Aerys would die one day. She hoped it was with poison, a sweet kiss that would torture him for days. She wanted him to die on the Iron Throne, die where he had sentenced and killed so many innocent people. She wanted him to choke on his breath, grasp at his neck as he turned an ugly shade of purple and withered to the ground. She wanted there to be an audience, hundreds, and thousands as they watched the Mad King die. Even those thoughts couldn't keep her from letting out a pained cry._

"Oh trust me," Elia laughed. Rhaella must have missed the conversation because it looked as if Elia and Arianne were getting along splendid, much to Lysa and Catelyn's dismay. Rhaella knew that Elia would have a hard time coming to terms with another wife for Rhaegar, one more able, but once Aerys had his mind set on something, there was no going back. "Don't you agree with that, good-mother?" Elia said, smiling to Rhaella.

Rhaella looked up from her teacup. "Pardon? Sorry I was lost in my thoughts for a moment."

"I was just telling Arianne how Oberyn would never let her rest until she married him."

"Oh, yes. You will not blink an eye with that man. He'll marry you in your sleep if you have caught his heart," Rhaella responded.

Arianne looked to Lyanna who squeezed her hand under the table; she was on her side. "I have not even thought of the word marriage yet," Arianne responded truthfully.

"Good." Elia sternly answered. "Once you a married you are like a bird locked in a cage, your wings will wane and your ability to fly will be forgotten. Be happy you have not married Arianne yet."

"Or maybe she much rather  _steals_ other women's betrothed," Lysa piped. Rhaella rolled her eyes, what a jealous little girl that one was.

"Maybe the problem is not with the girl, but the man. It could be he does not like his betrothed. Or does not care to honor her," Lyanna responded. Rhaella knew she would grow to like Lyanna. She was the strongest lady she had seen, and by far a beauty. Though the Southerner's depiction of beauty leaned more towards the likes of Catelyn and Cersei, she knew that in the North, Lyanna must have been favored very much.

Lysa glared back at the two girls, she huffed and scoffed and rolled her eyes. Rhaella had no idea why she had invited her to tea in the first place. Maybe she had mistaken her for another.

"It seems so, disrespecting the daughter of the Lord who is hosting her-"

"How may I ask did I disrespect you?" Arianne snapped, looking to Merida who had suddenly grown courage with her new  _friend._

"I chose Oberyn to dance with-"

"If you think that my brother will dance with one lady during an entire night, you do not know us Dornish very much Lady Merida," Elia responded, slightly smiling to Merida whose mouth was now sealed shut. "You and Arianne are free women, free to dance with whomever, to take air with whomever and speak to whomever. Do not turn against each other for men; we are all alike. They are the enemy, trust me when I say so." Rhaella couldn't agree more.

But the younger girls disagreed. The Tourney had suddenly become a joust between the three girls, two against one, an unfair fight, but a fight. Who would be the most beautiful? Who could capture as many hearts as possible?

Arianne decided to take Olenna's first lesson and ignore the two girls. If she wanted to survive, those two could believe that she was squabbling with them over the flesh of a man. Day one, she made three lovers, day two, two enemies. Her father's words returned to her.

_"They will tear you apart."_

And they would. Hair by hair. Skin, bones, and guts. Lyanna knew that her younger sister did not have thick skin like her and that the eight days to come would be long, tiresome and dangerous.

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, it's more of a filler to show you that everyone wants Arianne to either get the North or to get more babies. Next chapter will be the joust and lesson two for Arianne. I want Olenna to teach her not to listen to men and for Arianne to be a dummy again and do dumb things :P I hope you enjoyed this though, it took me a while to write. I'm never writing a tea time ever again, that shit was so boring to write ugh. Lemme know how you feel about this chapter, I am fine with honesty it's the only way I can improve. Also, what do you think Arianne will do next? And do you think Olenna was the one to see them? Shes old so can she run thatttttt fast? Hmmm...


	9. Lesson Two: Listen

**LESSON TWO: LISTEN**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

 **T** he horn had blown, and the lords, ladies, King, Queen, Prince's and Princess sat down in their assigned seats. The joust was to begin; Lord Walder Whent was to go against Brandon. Ashara did not know how that pairing had come to be, Walder was a small boy no older than five and ten, and for him to against the older and bigger Brandon, scared Ashara. She knew exactly who was going to win. She looked around the bear pit; it had been transformed into that of a tourney pit. The King and Queen were seated in the tallest, largest stand right at the top and in the middle. Targaryen banners were flapping around in the wind behind them. On the Queen's right, Rhaegar and Elia sat, with Ashara on Elia's right. Behind them stooJonathonnathor Darry, Arthur, and the Kingsguard Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower stood. Each Kingsgaurd had his hand on his sword, and helmet over their faces, wearing clean white cloaks. The other Kingsguard, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Lewyn Martell along with others she could not remember were situated at various other stands. Lewyn, to Ashara's surprise, had not made an effort to speak with his nephew Oberyn at all, in fact, Ashara wasn't even sure that Oberyn knew of his presence. The Tully's sat on the opposite stand; it seemed that the Blackfish had decided to turn up and was seated next to his sisters. Lysa was whispering something to her brother, who seemed not to care but listened anyway. Catelyn looked as radiant as ever, beaming down at Brandon and waving at him timidly. Ashara felt sorry for the young girl, to be in a false love was the worst type of love.

" _Where are we going?" Ashara whispered as Brandon led them out of the great hall. The feast was over, and they were one of the very last to leave, Brandon did not need people asking questions of his whereabouts._

_"Shhh, just...take my hand and follow me," he whispered back. Most people would be settled into their beds by now, or sneaking away to get their fun._

_"Don't shush me Stark!" She exclaimed as he took her hand. He led them through the various tents, carriages, rooms, and stables of the castle. They had gone well past the point of invitation, the particular part of the castle looked shunned and had not been taken care of for many years it seemed. Rubble lay everywhere, and Ashara could almost see the innocent workers of Harrenhal burning right then and there. She felt shiver even though the night was warm. They stopped in front of the Kingspyre Tower, the tallest tower in all of Harrenhal._

_"How fast can you climb stairs?" Brandon asked, turning to her._

_"No, no, no, no," Ashara sang moving away from him, their hands, however, were still together._

_Brandon smiled at her. "Are you scared?"_

_"Yes actually, that tower looks like it could come down in a second. There is no way I'm sneaking up there for a bit of Sally on the side," Ashara huffed._

_"Sally on the side? Is that what I am to you!?" Brandon exclaimed, clutching his chest with his free hand. "A silver for a kiss and gold for the whole package."_

_"For a Lord, you know a lot about prices of whores," Ashara snickered. They began the trek up the stairs. They were slippery, and both struggled to walk up them. Ashara took her shoes off, the rumble underneath her, in her view, would be easier to climb without heeled velvet shoes on. That wasn't true, for the moment her foot touched the warm stone step she was falling and with her Brandon fell. They didn't fall a long way, just a step or two; but both could agree that they both had a bruised ego...and bottom._

_Brandon covered Ashara's mouth which had let out a yelp and squeal as she fell and she pushed it away laughing. "If someone hears you," he warned._

_"They'll think I'm a ghost and run far far far away Stark, trust me," Ashara smiled putting her shoes back on._

_The innocent small talk stopped there, Ashara did not know if it was the darkness or the terrible wine that had gotten her a little drunk that made her do it, but she did it. She pushed herself onto him, and they began to kiss._

She was woken from her daze by the King who was yelling to the Queen, many great profanities coming from his mouth. The Queen put her head down and took them all gracefully; no one seemed to notice. Or they did notice and feared their eyes would be ripped from their heads if they dared look.

In front of the King and Queen sat Lyanna Stark next to Robert Baratheon. Arianne, Benjen, and Brandon sat to Lyanna's right, their banner standing proudly beside them. Ashara felt jealous of Lyanna and Robert, the entire time they sat at their stand, they whispered and laughed with each other. It was rare that betrothals were this well matched, even Elia and Rhaegar had not been so infatuated with each other at the beginning, Elia's mother had to force them to try and set aside their differences and find a little love between them. She caught a glimpse of Lord Whent whispering as well to his wife, but he was red, sweating and almost frothing, Oberyn would be the death of that man. Ashara struggled to remember the other lords and ladies names, only knowing them by house banner, the Lannister; much to her pleasure and their displeasure; were seated next to the Umbers.

Walder swung himself onto his horse, Brandon following his actions and the two nodded to each other. A squire handed Walder a crown of blue roses, and the stand became quiet. He placed the crown at the end of his jousting stick and rode slowly to the stand that held his sister. The one Ashara was seated at. He bowed his head and indicated for his sister to take the crown, and so she did placing it on her head gently as she beamed at her older brother.

"The Lord Brandon Stark fights for the honor of his betrothed, Catelyn Tully. The Lord Walder Whent fights for the honor of his sister, Merida Whent. When you are ready men," a squire announced. A second horn blew, and Walder returned to his side of the pole. Brandon, Ashara noticed, wore a steel armor, with a direwolf printed on it. Walder wore armor with nine bats printed on a yellow field. Brandon kicked his horse and Walder followed, the two charged at each other at speed Ashara had never seen before, and within a second, Walder was on the floor groaning and clutching his left shoulder, the same place Brandon had pointed his pole at. Blood began to seep out of his armor and chain mail; a Maester hobbled to where Walder was lying. Two squires tore off his armor and chainmail, and the crowd saw specks of wood showing from his skin. Brandon returned to his post, waiting for the next man who dared challenge him. To Ashara's surprise, the King clapped his hands, throwing his head back in a way that she was sure it had broken, the crowd followed along with him. Brandon's family the loudest, Lyanna screaming to her brother at the top of her lungs, Ned and Benjen clapping until the palms of their hands grew red and Arianne smiling to her brother.

 _That was a family. A real family._  Ashara thought as Walder was helped off the floor and to a tent, and his brother Willias claimed a top his horse.

"Don't you just hate jousts? The gore makes me want to vomit," Elia whispered to Ashara.

Ashara couldn't agree more. "They seem to enjoy it," Ashara said pointing to the Westerosi who sat back down for the next tournament.

"We do not belong here," Elia said smiling as the Stark's sat back down, she saw Arianne clutch her sister's hand ecstatically, and the two began to whisper to each other.

"No. Neither do they,"Ashara said, following Elia's eyes.

"And the rumors? Of Rhaegar and the girl? Have they died down?" Elia whispered, making sure the Queen couldn't hear her. Ashara had told her of what she had seen and heard at the feast and breakfast the morning after, even though the Queen advised her against it, for fear Elia would grow sad. Though the Queen did not know that Elia's heart was not with Rhaegar, and she would not care if he had taken on another.

"She wants you to come to the feast tonight, to quell the gossip," Ashara whispered back.

"Of course she does. I give this stinking family two healthy children, almost kill myself for it and this is how I'm repaid," Elia said rolling her eyes. "With my husband publically dishonoring me and my good-mother hiding me behind her skirts."

"Now now Elia, be respectful. You are the princess," Arianne said, mimicking Elia's fathers' words.

"Oh shut up," Elia said nudging her friend. "I'll go for a little bit, but then I must fear I'll have to retire," Elia said.

Ashara turned to her brother. "Why? Is my brother that irresistible?"

Elia pinched her thigh. "We've talked about speaking of it in public. This is not Dorne, women having affairs is punishable by death."

"That why she's still alive?" Ashara asked nodding to Arianne.

"She is not a married woman. She is not married to the Mad King's son," Elia noted.

Ashara agreed with her friend. She pulled Elia's hand to her lap. "After he is dead, we will return to Dorne. Bring Rhaenys and Aegon, we both know Rhaegar will take a second wife, and Aegon need not rule the seven kingdoms."

Elia smiled sadly, "we both know that is a fantasy, I wish to see Dorne just once again before I die."

"You are a woman of twenty and one; you will see Dorne many times before you die," Arianne said. A horn blew and the second joust began.

* * *

 **A** rthur had to admit; his job was one of the worst and best in the seven kingdoms. If he were lucky enough, he would be stationed with Elia and Rhaegar, following the two as the faked their affections for each other. Elia had told him that the two were friends, but the love or infatuation that was once there seemed to have fizzled out after Aegon was born. He looked to his sister and his love as they laughed and whispered to each other, Rhaegar would turn to them now and then to try and listen to what they were saying, little did he know those two were as quiet as mice when they spoke in public. Arthur turned his head to watch as Brandon unhorsed the second Whent brother, he held in a laugh as Lord Whent let out an angry cry and Brandon's siblings were back on their feet clapping.

Arthur remembered how much he missed his mother, how she would hold him in her arms and sing sweet songs to him until he fell asleep. He laughed at Ashara whenever she would get angry at Rhaella for killing her mother. If only she knew. Ashara was a girl of three when their mother had died; he had no idea how a child could've even had the hate she held when they heard their mother had died. She threw her tiny body to the wet nurse, though he was sure she didn't understand exactly what was going on, after a year with no trace of their mother, Ashara stopped peeping through the door where Serene would slide notes to Arthur. He could not fathom how quickly things happened. Once second he clutched the note that had scribbled on it:

_I am well, I have just taken ill._

And the next moment they were shoved into their rooms and their mother was wailing and screaming. He stuck his ear to the door to get a better hear of the things that were said, and he would never forget the way Ashara sat on the floor. Her hands to her ears, her body rocking back and forth. There were silent footsteps that ran past their room door, and then he heard cries of men outside.

_"Make it stop!" She squealed, a girl of three. Arthur wished he could make the screaming stop, but he couldn't. He looked under his door, the small line between door and floor seemed to be sealed with a piece of cloth. He sighed pressing his ear back again._

_"One more my lady!" he heard Lilia cry, Serene let out another groan and then a child's squeals were heard. Almost like a strangled pig. He heard Lilia cry out and scream. "She will wake. Maester there has to be something-" But her voice was muffled, the doors must have been closed. He heard mumbling and the door squeak open. Small pitter patters of footsteps ran down the hall and vanished with each step the person took down the staircase._

_He began to cry as he saw the dead bodies on the floor, opened the door to his room and was met with a sight he could never forget, nor compare anything to. It was worse than anything he had and would ever see. He could not even describe it, but he knew he would remember that exact moment for the rest of his life. Her dark hair was sprawled around her, her face sweaty and red. Her chest so still and her eyes wide open. Blood pooled around her legs, it was on the bed, on her hands and dripping down to the floor. A Maester stood in front of her, whispering quiet words with eyes shut as handmaidens worked to pick up the bed sheets and wipe the sweat from her face. Arthur remembered being angry at them; they would not even allow her the last moments of her life to be easy, tugging, pulling and patting her body. And how could he forget, the scream that his father let out, it almost made Arthur go deaf. He remembered how his father came, almost out of nowhere, pushed the handmaidens aside and held her body so close that the blood began to rub on his night clothes. His father said something to the Maester; the Maester pointed to the hallway, where Arthur stood. They seemed to look right past him. His father gently put Serene's body on the bed and ran to the window, Arthur ran to his own to see what his father was looking at. He heard his father scream something to the men below, they looked up to their Lord and drew their swords._

_He heard the cries of the men outside and the clanking of swords, Three large men had almost sprung from nowhere and were now fighting against their men, The Dornish men were falling quickly, swiftly and easily. Almost like a giant and breathed and they toppled over. He saw a figure run down the steps of their castle and try to get past one of the brutes, Lilia. He knew who it was right away. She was forced onto a horse with the tiny screaming package in her hands, and the brute got on behind her. They rode away. The whole thing was planned, how else would those monsters know when to be at their home? They had to have been called upon. He vowed to return that precious gift their mother had brought into this world back home to his father. His father, the man who would remember that night for the rest of his life, the man who was to be seated at their castle for the rest of his days, alone; his children taken away, unbeknownst to him or Arthur, by the very man who had caused the family such grief._

And remember he did. Every night he would see that same image in his head, replaying until the gods let him rest easy. Arthur knew that when that bastard Stark stepped through her carriage doors and up the stairs to her room and by the way Rhaella had looked at her, that she was his half sister. She held her mother's purple eyes, dark hair and sun kissed skin. But she had her fathers beauty. Arthur also knew who her father was, and would never forgive Aerys for killing his mother. He refused to allow himself to forgive the man that had forced her into such a state that she died doing something she had already done twice before.

He looked to his half sister, Arianne. She was dressed in a modest dress, more modest than the night before and kept quiet. Her siblings, on the other hand, talked amongst themselves, excited to see their brother win three jousts in a row.

 _These Southerns have pretty knights. Knights that will lose wars._  Arthur thought to himself. He knew better than meddle in the workings of jousts; they were poor warriors and sellswords who had no one to work for because as their name suggested they either could not fight or the Kingdom was running out of people to kill.

He wondered how the little girl had encaptured three men in one night; even his sister lacked that ability. All Arianne had to do was stare at the man, smile to him and flutter her purple eyes and have him on his knees. Jamie Lannister was certainly on his knees, boasting about how he was able to have the first dance and how so many did not dance with her the night before.

" _She gave me her first dance just as she will give me her maidenhood by the end of this magnificent Tourney," Jaime smiled, his armor blinding those who dared stare at it._

_"Talk about my sister one more time Lannister, and it's the last bloody thing that will come out of your mouth," Brandon Stark growled, dropping his sword and march to Jaime._

_"Or what?" Jaime smirked. Arthur could tell he was a trouble seeker._

_"Your daddy isn't here to buy you out of this fight boy, and I'm warning you," Brandon sneered a second time. His brother Eddard, the boy Arthur had saved Ashara from at the feast, pushed his brother away from Jaime and told him to take a walk. Turning to Jaime, Eddard glared and followed his brother, who picked up his sword and shrugged his brother's hand from his shoulder._

_"I'd be lucky to have anyone talk of my sister like that," Walder Whent laughed as his brothers laughed along with him._

_"Your sister is a beautiful girl, you treat her as such anyway," Oberyn pointed out._

_"My sister is beautiful when you're drunk. She has a common girls beauty, not the beauty of Cersai or Lyanna or Catelyn," Walder said._

_"No, they all have a commoners beauty too," Oberyn responded, leaning his back on a tree. He had been watching the men practice from the sidelines. Oberyn looked up to a window on the castle walls, no one knew what he was staring at, but he seemed to be looking to the window longingly. "She has the beauty of the Maid. She makes you want to scream and claw at your chest until you cannot do so anymore just for the gift of gazing at her face one last time."_

_The men snickered. "Are you in love Martell?" Jaime smirked. "If you are, I suggest you stop trying. I have marked her as mine."_

_"You are betrothed Lannister, you forget yourself. The only woman yours now is Lysa Tully," Oberyn pointed out. Jaime glared at him. "And you will watch the way you speak to a Prince, Lord."_

_"You aren't my Prince," Jaime snapped back._

_"I am the brother of Princess Elia Martell, my good brother is Prince Rhagear Targaryen, my good-mother the Queen and my good-father the King; I am your Prince whether you like it or not," Oberyn smirked walking closer to Jaime. "Stay away from my territory Lannister."_

_"Fuck off," Jaime snarled before marching off._

_"Give Cersai one finger from me!" Oberyn shouted as Jaime walked away._

_Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, "you are a menace," he said patting Oberyn's shoulder._

_Oberyn shrugged. "I can't be the only one who sees the way those two look at each other?"_

_"Leave it Oberyn. It is none of your business."_

"Arthur!" Rhaegar repeated he must've been too lost in his thoughts to hear him because Barristan seemed to be looking at him shocked.

"Sorry my Prince," Arthur murmured bowing his head. Rhaegar shook his head, Arthur knew how much he hated it when he referred to him so formally. Both considered the other as a brother.

"It's alright, Elia wants to rest in her room. Could you accompany her?" Rhaegar asked, Elia, stood from her seat, excused herself and Ashara and followed Arthur down the steps of the stand, up the stairs of the bear pit and to the main courtyard.

"I know this makes you wish you stayed in Kings Landing," Ashara smiled to her brother. "Your job seems to bore you here."

"And you think I didn't argue with Ser Gerold Hightower to have me as far away from this stupid Tourney as possible?" Arthur asked, turning to his sister.

Elia let out a giggle. "And be far away from me Ser?"

How could he deny that being with Elia had improved his past two days? Though he had been around Rhaegar a lot, he had to admit that the perks of being stationed at her door during the day overjoyed him. When no one was looking, she'd call him into her room, and they would talk and share small kisses until Rhaegar came back and asked what was going on, to which they would reply Elia wasn't feeling well and asked for company. They had only done it twice, during the first day. Rhaegar had left the room to see the Starks as they came into the castle, and a second time after he had come from the feast. Neither of them asked about his messy hair, missing belt, and crown that was askew.

Arthur looked at her, looked twice to his left and twice to his right before placing a small kiss on her cheek. "Do I dare ever to be away from you?" he whispered.

"Blech!" Ashara scoffed, walking faster to Elia's room.

* * *

"My lady, Prince Oberyn is outside," Rashida whispered behind Merida.

"Okay call him in?" Merida responded, rolling her eyes.

 _Why does she feel the need to whisper?_  She thought to herself.

"Your father has uhm...well-,"

"Speak up! How am I supposed to hear you with that tiny voice?" Merida scoffed standing from her seat at her vanity table.

"Your Lord father forbade me from letting you see Oberyn anymore. He said you are to choose another man or he'll choose one for you," Rashida said, her voice wavering.

Merida stared at the handmaiden, raising one brow. "My Lord father will live with my decisions." She said before stomping to the door to swing it open. Rashida pushed it back to close.

"I'm sorry, but your father is my Lord and is only who can tell me what to do and not to do."

"Get out of my way," Merida growled trying to open the door. "How much do you weigh?" She said. Rashida had her back to the wall, in front of Merida, who was trying futilely to open the door.

"My lady?" Oberyn's muffled voice came from the door.

Merida glared at Rashida. "One moment!" She squeaked pushing the girl to the side, walking out of her room and slamming the bedroom door shut. "Hello," she smiled touching her hair gently and fixed her dress.

"I have come to tell you that I will be escorting Lady Arianne to the feast, and you need not wait for me. I hope your night is pleasant." And with that he was gone, leaving a huffing, red faced Merida to look after him as he walked away.

Oberyn made his way to the east side of the rooms, knocked on Arianne's room and waited for her to step out. "My lady," he smiled bowing respectfully.

Arianne looked at him confused, "you glare at me the whole day, and now you are here to speak to me?" she asked, moving to close the door.

Oberyn stopped the door with his hand. "Forgive me; I seemed to have let the gossip get to my head."

"Yes, your sister mentioned you were a little hot-headed. She did not mention you were a liar," Arianne smiled fakely turning to her handmaiden and sister who was in her room preparing for the feast.

"Liar?" he asked, looking at her questionably.

"Aye, a liar. You were at the armory yard the whole day today, then at the joust. Who may I ask, quelled these rumors?" She asked him, closing the dorr behind her and bidding her sister and handmaiden farewell with a bow.

"Olenna Tyrell. She told me of how you went to her crying of the rumors and how Prince Rhaegar merely walked you to your room last night," Oberyn said, holding his hand out for her to take. It had gotten quite dark, and the light coming from the great hall bounced off the castle's wall.

Arianne looked at Oberyn frowning. Why would Olenna tell him that? She thought as the doors opened for them. The hall became silent, all eyes on them as they walked into the room. The eyes had little to judge though, Arianne wore a dress she had made herself, it was a dark blue color; representing her house. There was little of her body left exposed, and she had to admit she was more comfortable than she was the night before. Arianne couldn't locate any of her siblings as of it, except for Benjen who was talking to the man dressed in black again. Oberyn looked to the royal family where Elia and Rhaegar sat next to Aerys and Rhaella. He smiled at his sister, and she beamed at him, her head nodding to Arianne and one brow raising. Oberyn in returned shrugged his shoulder. Rhaegar, however, refused to look at them both for more than a split second, turning his head to his wife to start a conversation. Oberyn though did realize the way Aerys whispered into Barrisatan's ear as soon as they walked in, Barristan looked to Arianne for a moment, nodded his head and solemnly marched back to his post. Something was bothering him, for the frown etched on his face did not leave.

"Will you be joining me tonight?" Oberyn asked, smirking as they were led to their seats. It seemed that the seating arrangments from the night before were forgotten and each house, region, and family was mingling with another.

"Join you?" Arianne frowned.

He looked at her as if the answer was obvious, Arianna scoffed and shook her head. "I think you already have someone who wants to join you," she whispered turning to look at Merida. The young lady was glaring at both of them from her seat next to her father and mother.

Oberyn didn't even look to where Arianne was looking. "And you already have someone who wants to join you." And he was right, Jaime had been looking at them from the moment they had walked into the hall. Though unlike Merida he wasn't glaring, merely looking.

"It sounds like no one will be joining anyone," Arianne responded, picking up her wine glass and sipping lightly.

"You are cold tonight my lady," Oberyn sighed, pushing the wine away from him.

Arianne sighed. "I'm sorry. I've just had a hard time adjusting to these Southern lords and ladies."

"Yes, they can be a little tedious. They seem to dislike anyone that does not follow their way," he nodded.

"They like you," Arianne pointed out.

"No. They like to watch me, but they do not like me. They think I am a whoring womanizer who has come from a foreign land to steal their throne through my sister. The way Lord Whent looks at me when I'm with his daughter. Today at the joust, I knew he wanted to choke me then and there, I wish I were the one to unhorse his sons, but jousting is not a sport I quite enjoy yous see."

"I like you," Arianne said, smiling at him.

"You like a lot of people, you are young and naive," Oberyn responded pinching her chin.

Arianne slapped his hand away. "I am a woman grown and am not naive."

Oberyn laughed at her. "You look just like my sister when she gets angry. All of your faces come to your nose, and you look like an ogre."

Arianne exclaimed, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

"Forgive me, Arianne, I did not mean to offend you," he smirked nudging her hand.

Arianne rolled her eyes. "So why don't you like jousts?"

"Because I prefer to be playing to kill not to win. I prefer to watch as my enemy chokes on his blood and dies a slow death. I do not like to play your Westerosi games; they are a bore. In Dorne, we play to live. Not for a bag of gold." his voice merely a whisper, Arianne struggled to hear him through the noise of the great hall.

"You are a man of many words," Arianne responded.

He ignored her statement. "Lady Olenna has informed me you are to go to Highgarden after the Tourney?"

"Lady Olenna and you seem to talk quite a lot about me," Arianne said shaking her head. "Yes, I am going to the Reach with her. To be her ward."

"You should come home," Oberyn said, placing his hand on top of hers, which lay on the table.

"Home? To Winterfell?"

"To Dorne."

Arianne let herself grow silent. She did not know how to respond to him. Oberyn was right, Dorne was her home, half her home anyways. She had spent the majority of her life in her father's homeland and had not even thought to dream of what her mothers home was like. Whether her mother was highborn or just the daughter of a lord who held a holdfast, whether she was as beautiful as Lilia had mentioned or if she was as strong, willful and prideful. She felt ashamed that she had never given much thought to the idea, too bust and caught up in her life in the North. Too busy in the perfect life her father had provided her, away from all the snakes of the South, away from the gossiping and many rules of conduct that they had made up for themselves. She wished she had listened to her father, stayed at home with him and Lilia. Coming to Harrenhal had only brought out the worst in her, Olenna was right, she was a whore with no whore money. "I don't remember my time in Dorne; I left with my father when I was a baby."

"Left? You were taken Arianne," Oberyn snarled. Any child who was ripped from her mother's breast, even if the mothered contented, was stolen in his eyes. Where the mother was, the home stood.

"Oberyn!" Arianne exclaimed. "My mother died giving birth to me, and my father had no choice but to take me to the North. He showed me mercy, I am a bastard after all," Arianne reminded him.

Oberyn knew of her heritage, who her mother was, but he was doubtful that her father was Rickard Stark. She did not show resemblance, not even the slightest, to her siblings. They on the other had been copies of one another. Expect for Lyanna. Oberyn had to admit, that after looking at the girl for a long time, and once she had gotten out of that ridiculous dress and into a more Souther dress, the girl was beautiful. In her way, Northern way, but beautiful. Robert Baratheon was a lucky man. Not lucky enough it seemed, to keep himself from rolling around with one of the handmaidens after the feast had ended the night before. Oberyn had seen them rum up to his room after everyone was settled in their rooms and felt ashamed for Lyanna. She deserved a man. Not a whore. "I apologize for my-"

"Hotheaded nature," Arianne said smiling lightly to Oberyn. He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand under his.

He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand under his. "I truly hope your time in Highgarden will be memorable though; I hear it is beautiful."

Arianne nodded her head as the musicians began to play a song, the night was just beginning. "I have a feeling my stay will be short. Olenna intends to teach me every day for half the day until the joust and feast. There is only so much knowledge someone can have."

"I know she does not particularly like me, as she had made so clear during our conversations and I am sure during yours as well, but she has a lot of wisdom to share and no one to share it with," Oberyn pointed out.

"She has me," Arianne added. The doors of the great hall opened, and her sister, brothers, and Robert walked in. Seating themselves on the last table, the same seat they took the night before.

"Wolves always stay in packs," Oberyn whispered following Arianne's eyes.

"Not always," Arianne said, angry that he had said that. She was half Stark, half her father and deserved to be in whatever pack Oberyn was placing her siblings in.

" _Always."_

* * *

 **"A**  traitor is found in your counsel, he or she has been writing ravens to your enemy's house of your spendings, earnings and how you wish to pursue and preserve the future of your house. What do you do? Behead them or forgive them by only dismissing them from your ranks?" Olenna asked. She had called Arianne to her room the morning after the first joust and second feast. She had heard the girl kept to herself more and how gossip was quelled with the Princess dancing with her husband, the Prince. Arianne did tell her though that she talked with Oberyn, Olenna knew that the Martell's wanted her to have the North at their side, should anything happen. She knew how they did not care of bastards or sibling marriages and she knew she had to act fast.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Arianne speaking. "I would cut off his head," Arianne responded, shrugging her shoulders.

Olenna tutted shaking her head. "You most certainly won't. You ask him why he did what he did and you let him go."

"But he knows my houses secrets," Arianne argued.

"And what? Your enemy does not care for how much grain you have. Nor does he give a rats arse about how much spend. He cares about how much gold and soldiers you have," Olenna responded.

"But we are not at war, why would he care for how much soldiers and gold I have?" she asked frowning.

"I never said you weren't at war. Why do you have an enemy if you aren't at war?" Olenna asked arching her brow. "Listen."

"And what if I want no part in this war?"

"Then you will lose," Olenna responded shrugging her shoulders. Arianne nodded her head and looked at her hands that rested on her lap. "I assume you have quelled the rumors of you and the Prince? And that Lannister?"

"I spoke to neither at the joust yesterday, only to Oberyn Martell." Arianne responded smiling to her.

"Good. Now we only have seven days, word from your father has not yet arrived, but I assume he has said yes. Have you told her siblings yet?" Olenna asked.

"Yes, they all know I'm to go to Highgarden with you. It seems my father will be left alone after all," Arianne smiled.

"He'll have Bradon, and his new wife there with him too. I'm sure your handmaiden will do him good and keep him company there too," Olenna said tapping the girl's hands. Arianne had told her of the magnificent Lilia, her handmaiden. How she had taught her to be strong and uphold her Dornish values.

What a load of piss. Olenna had thought. That handmaiden hadn't taught her left from right.

"Oh no, Lilia will be coming with us. Next, to my sister, she is my closest companion," Arianne said. Olenna turned and rolled her eyes. Of course, she would be coming. The only good she would do in Highgarden was to waste their food and spend their money.

Olenna stood from her seat and began to walk around her room. "So, on with our lesson eh?" Arianne nodded. She had been a good listener so far and learned a great deal from that one lesson. "Tell me, Arianne, do you wish to rule one day?" Olenna asked. Arianne shook her head. "Do you ever wish to be a queen?"

"I am a bastard if I wanted to be a queen my wish would stay a wish," Arianne responded.

"Good response," Olenna smiled. "Do you ever want to be a Lady of a castle? Or a holdfast? What are your ambitions?"

"To bring my family honor."

"You are answering my questions without answering them," Olenna said looking to the girl.

"Is that not what you said to do?" Arianne smiled.

"You learn fast."

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty long chapter, but I hope you guys enjoyed it. Sorry I haven't been updating as regularly but I've been busy with school. I hope you enjoyed this and can't wait to write more. Let me know how you guys feel and what you think is gonna happen next. Arianne's a bit cold today because I wanted to show her thinking more than speaking and doing anything of great deal, I guess this chapter was more focused on our Dornish friends. That Arthur flashback was very hard to write so I hope you liked it. All the love xxx Winta. (NOT EDITED TO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING, GRAMMAR, SILLY ERRORS)


	10. Rejection, Reed, Revelation

 

**REJECTION, REED, REVELATION**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

 **S** he did not know how she had managed it, but right after the third day's joust, where Rhaegar had unhorsed Ser Barristan and there were four rounds of archery all of which Lyanna knew she would have won, Lyanna had managed to sneak away. Her handmaiden, Tituba, had made a habit of spending a  _very_ long time preparing her for events. Lyanna did not mind, she had never had someone to clip her nails, brush her hair or style her hair the way that Tituba did, but the wild Lyanna grew tired after three endless pampering sessions in the short three days. That and she didn't want to hear Robert talk about their future together, as much as she liked him, she found herself falling out of the trance that day. The way he would skull almost three jugs of wine at feasts, laugh as if he was about to die and the way he would stare shamelessly at her half-sister. She didn't know if she could take it any longer. Coming to realize it, she had only seen Arianne at events and the day before, at the joust and preparing for the feast. She seemed quite taken with Oberyn, not joining them at their table and instead, she fit right in with the Dornishmen. Her-half sister had stayed close to Oberyn after he had whisked her off refusing to allow her eyes to gaze upon the Prince just once and Lyanna was proud. She remembered how the day before, on the second day, Arianne had come to her room to help her get ready for the feast and Oberyn had asked her to join him.

_"So what did happen after the feast?" Lyanna asked, curious as to what her sister had gotten up to with the Prince._

_Arianne looked longingly to her sister. But she remembered what Oleanna had told her merely a day ago, only those with the same blood could be trusted. But they were in the presence of two handmaidens and Arianne could and would not, risk it. "The story is for another time. Though it is not as exaggerated as people make it be."_

_Lyanna faked a gasp, covering her mouth with her palm. "You mean to tell me he did not drink your blood under the moon?"_

_Arriane hit her sister's arm, Lyanna hitting hers back, the hitting fight was stopped by Oliva who had put her hand down the middle. "My lady! You are by far my hardest lady that I have had to braid hair for."_

_"Sorry," Lyanna muttered, turning back around and sitting upright as Olivia continued her hair._

_"Who said he drank my blood!?" Arianne asked, brushing her sisters dress with her hand._

_"Lysa Tully. She has been going around telling people that he crowned you his blood Queen." Lyanna responded, her voice turning deep and horrifying._

_Something like that, Arianne thought to herself._

_"Lyanna you know I hate it when you do that!" Arianne exclaimed. She sighed, twirling her fingers for a few moments and then turning to her sister. "Why does Lysa seem to despise me so? I have never felt so many glares from one person than I have from her."_

_"Because" Oliva began before Lyanna had the chance to come up with a response. "Lysa loves Jaime and Jaime seem to be taken with you. She doesn't despise you per say; she is merely threatened by your presence. But I wouldn't worry about Jaime liking you if I were her."_

_Lyanna and Arianne looked at each other confused. Lyanna's handmaiden, Tituba, tutted and shook her head at Oliva._

_"We mustn't gossip about others Oliva," Tituba said._

_Oliva rolled her eyes and shrugged._

_Arianne grabbed onto Oliva's arm and shook it. "Tell us!"_

_"Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been riding and have been locked up in this damn castle for the last two days, but I have a sudden interest in the gossip of these annoying lords and ladies of the castle," Lyanna added trying to turn her head, only to have Oliva turn it back with her hands._ _Tituba tutted once more as she lay out Lyanna's jewelry on the bed and placed her shoes on the floor. "Oh stop it," Lyanna groaned, kicking her feet excitedly._

_Oliva shook her head. "I won't tell you two anything anyways. It's none of our business."_

_"This whole castle has been buzzing about my life, so why can't I buzz about theirs?" Arianne whined, tugging at Oliva's hands once more._

_"An eye for an eye will make the world go blind," Tituba pointed out._

_"Good, some of us don't deserve to see the world," a voice came from the door. It was Jaime Lannister. Lyanna covered her chest with her arms; she was only in her undergarments at that time._

_Oliva stood from her seat and Tituba followed her as the cursed. Lyanna and Arianne doing the same after them._

_"Lysa Tully only despises you because you are more beautiful is all, nothing to it," Jaime smirked, opening the door to the room and strutting inside. He wore red feast shirt and pants, similar to those he wore the night before. The room became silent after his words, and he cleared his throat. "I came to ask my lady to the feast. But I see you have not readied yourself, shall I come back later?"_

_"No," Arianne responded. "I am ready, but I won't be going with you. In fact, I'm escorting my sister there tonight," she said smiling._

_"You'll regret it, my lady," he sang, the smirk never once leaving his face._

_"No I won't," Arianne sang back._

_He looked behind her to her sister and handmaidens who had all done a horrible job at stifling their laughter. He lowered his voice and took on step closer to her. "I like you, Arianne, don't make me unlike you."_

_"Jaime, I think it's time for you to leave now," Arianne whispered back. She had liked the man when too much wine was in her blood, but his dominant nature did not mix well with her just then, the way he spoke to her made her feel degraded in ways she had never felt before. She would have to erase Jaime Lannister from her list of suitors._

_The smirk dropped from Jaime's face, he nodded his head and made his way out the door. When his footsteps had left, Lyanna, Oliva, and Tituba had burst into laughter._

_Arianne smiled to them joining along, though she didn't think anyone found it as funny as Lyanna did. She had never seen her sister laugh the way she did, clutching her stomach, wiping her eyes and squealing like a little child._

Lyanna walked past the guards at the tail end of the castle, through the back gates and to the tents where the rest of the parties had been set up. As the lords and ladies ate and drank lavishly, Lyanna imagined them to be sitting and chatting amongst each other with the silent music in the background. They were just like them; they probably had the same dramas and gossip going around the campsite as the gossip going around the castle. Only they were born with no name and title. How the gods had forsaken some and blessed others.

As Lyanna wondered aimlessly through the campsite and greeted some of those she traveled with, she came near a large oak tree where shouts, grunts, and metal hitting the ground. She wondered behind the tree, making sure to hide and peeked at what was happening.

Three squires Lyanna knew to be, Handson; her brother's newly appointed squire; Bronn; Walder's squire; and Gerald; Jaime's squire.

"Get up Reed!" Handson snickered, kicking the man underneath him, Lyanna guessed it to be Howland. She had been best friends with him up until he was taken to be fostered at the Bolton's alongside Roose, she hated the Dreadfort and refused to visit him there. They grew apart ever since Howland hasn't said a word to her.

Bronn picked up a sword from the floor and began to jab at Howland, who in turn picked up his sword and tried helplessly to fight off Bronn.

"What!? Don't have little Neddy to come to your rescue now?" Gerald laughed, Handson laughing along with him.

"My fathers richer than your entire fucking family Reed. How's that feel? A farmer's got more silver in gold than a little lordy," Handson laughed. He began kicking at Howland, who was already on the floor thanks to Bronn's efforts and was joined by both boys as they kicked and spat down at him. Howland did nothing but cover his head with both hands and lie in a fetal position.

Lyanna grunted, having had enough of Howland not sticking up for himself and the squires bullying. She walked in front of the oak tree, unnoticed by the four, picking up a stray sword and cleared her throat. The three who were standing turned and dropped their heads, Bronn's sword went flying as he threw it behind his back.

"My lady," they all muttered.

"Beating my Lord father's Bannerman could see you all  _killed._ " She said, glaring at them. "Howland Reed, if any of you have cared to educate yourselves on the Noble Houses of Westeros is a Reed, and the Reed's are under House Stark. Another person to lay a finger on this man, and that will be the last finger he sees in his pathetic little life. Are we understood,  _boys?"_ She asked, her words coming out as a mere whisper as she neared them, sword dragging behind her.

They nodded profusely, "it were only fun mi lady," Bronn muttered back.

"He has a black eye and is bleeding at the nose. One more word from you squire, and you'll be seeing black." That seemed to shut him up rather quickly, his gaze falling anywhere but on Lyanna. "Shoo." Was all she had to say and the three were scouring away, pushing one another to leave with their lives.

She knelt down next to Howland who had sat upright and was clutching his ribs and groaning. "Thank you," his words were muffled through the pain in his voice as he gasped and winced.

Lyanna shushed him, throwing the heavy sword onto the floor and kneeling down next to him. Tituba would kill her for her dress was muddy at the knees now. "How could you let them do this?" She whispered to him as she began to unbutton his shirt to see the damage that had been done. Howland tried to push her away, but she hit his hands away, and he finally gave in. He refused to answer her question, once she asked him again, and looked away ashamed. Lyanna sighed, looking to her long-lost friend mournfully. As she tore at his undershirt, she saw something she wished she hadn't. Scars riddled his abdomen, though unlike the scars her father had shown her on his own body, these were notes caused by a blade.

"The Neck is not kind to us crannogmen, nor do the animals that lurk below the swamps," he responded laughing lightly, clutching his ribs quickly after and swearing to himself.

Lyanna shook her head. "You haven't been to Neck since you were fostered by Hester Bolton these aren't animal bites Howland these are-" but before she could finish her sentence, running was heard behind them. Lyanna stood and spun around to see who had approached; it was Brandon followed by Ned and a Maestar running after them. Lyanna looked funnily at the maester, who was young and had been able to keep pace with boy men. They ran quickly up to them once they had noticed Howland on the floor and Lyanna next to him.

"Lyanna!" Brandon yelled, grabbing his sister by the arm and hugging her. Ned was rubbing her shoulders as they looked down to the Maester who had begun inspecting Howland.

"A few broken ribs, a broken nose, and a bruised ego is all," the Maester smiled, turning to Brandon and nodding.

" _Is all!?"_ Lyanna frowned, glaring at the Maester.

" _Is all._ Has his heart stopped beating? Has the air in his lungs stopped flowing? Has his blood clogged? Is he ill? Falling ill? Dying? Stabbed in the chest? Losing blood?" The Maester snapped back to her.

Lyanna looked to him in shock and shook her head.

"Let the educated do their jobs; you continue to giggle and twirl your hair, my lady. Never questions a Maester again." And with that, he and Ned managed to help Howland off the ground, and they were off. Ned threw her an apologetic look behind him as they carried him to the castle.

"What happened?" Brandon asked, turning to his sister.

"Your squire and his friends were beating him bloody that's what  _happened_ ," Lyanna growled, stomping away from her brother.

"Lyanna wait!" Brandon sighed, chasing after her. He grabbed her arm, and she shrugged him off.

"If you need me, I'll be in the armory yard."

"But there are only men there?"

"Now there will be men and  _a_  woman."

* * *

 **Y** ou have kept this secret from me for far too long; you won't keep it from our son for any longer," Aerys muttered as Rhaella paced his room. He had summoned Rhaegar to the room, and they were awaiting his arrival. Oh, how she wished she had not said a word. She wished that Arianne had vanished back home. She wished she had written to Rickard and told him to forbid her from attending the feast, that would have solved all the problems that would soon arise. Rhaella, on account of Elia, knew that Oberyn planned on proposing to Brandon that his youngest sister take his hand in marriage, and then asking her father at the boys wedding at Riverrun. She knew how he had made plans in his head of bringing her back home, she  _just_ knew it, and she hoped that his plans would work. Kings Landing was not her home. Kings Landing was not a home for anyone.

"And you sent Serene away because she  _didn't empty your chamber pot!_  You knew that Serene was worthy of the role as a Lady in Waiting and yet you made her your slave," Aerys rambled on as servant dressed him, rather quickly.

The door to the room opened, revealing a smiling Rhaegar. "Mother, father," he nodded.

"Father, mother." Aerys corrected, slapping the servant's hand away and shooing him from the room with a flick of the wrist. "Thank you Barristan, that will be all." He added. Barristan, still in his jousting gear, nodded his head, bowed and left the room; shutting the door behind him.

Aerys sat down at the table, Rhaella on the couch. They looked to their son. Aerys could not help but despise the very few surviving children of Rhaella's, his handsomeness, his popularity with the people. He knew they wanted Aerys dead, Varys had told him. They waited for the day that Rhaegar would be crowned king and Aerys crowned dead. They chanted after the Prince, the perfect,  _sane,_ Prince. But they did not know what Aerys knew. They called him insane, but he was the only one who knew. He tried to warn Rickard of it, leave the North, bring your children to the South, but Rickard was too stubborn, too Northern to leave his homeland for safety. Aerys was glad he would be long gone when they came for the living.

Rhaegar cleared his throat, waking him from his thoughts. "Am I dying?" He asked, laughing.

Aerys glared at him. "Sit the fuck down."

Rhaegar didn't have to be told twice, the laughter drained from his face as he sat down next to his mother, she looked at him sadly.

"That girl, did you do anything with her?" Aerys asked.

"Lyanna?" Rhaegar questioned, he did not know anyone had seen them. He had made sure they were alone. The girl had come marching to the armory and demanded knight's gear, saying it was for her brother, but Rhaegar knew otherwise from all the stories he had been told of the she-wolf.

"Lyanna?" Rhaella frowned.

Rhaegar looked to them surprised. "I was talking to her at the armory; I thought she was the girl you were asking of."

Rhaella looked at him suspiciously. She had never known her son to be a womanizer, so for him to knock down two sisters in three days irked her. "The bastard Stark girl," Rhaella corrected him.

Rhaegar smiled to himself, remembering their time together. "An innocent kiss was all. Did I offend her by doing so? If I did, I did not know father and apologize if I did."

"Shut up," Aerys growled, rolling his eyes. "I have sent a raven to Winterfell. You are to take her as your second wife." Rhaella turned to him, raising her brow in confusion. She thought he would be telling Rhaegar of her true parents, not of the fact that he would be marrying her. Rhaella knew that if Rhaegar had caught a scent of her true family, Aerys would've been neck deep in vomit, for she knew how much had despised brother and sister love.

"What? No. I'm already married-"

"And acting like you want to fuck her already so why not make it legal. Your children will be legitimate that way. Her name will be Targaryen and that Martell bitch can fuck off home with her brother and Dornishmen."

"Aegon is first in line to me," Rhaegar reminded him. "My children will stay with  _me."_

" _Aegon's_  rule ends here and now. He is no longer in the line of succession," Aerys shrugged, pouring himself wine.

"You can't just-"

"I am the King!" Aerys bellowed, having had enough of his son's protests. "I can do whatever I please."

Rhaegar nodded his head, stepping down from the argument. A short silence followed them. Rhaella looked to her son reassuringly, "I hear Olenna Tyrell plans on taking her to the the Reach, as a ward." Rhaella added.

"Who told you that?" Aerys asked.

"Olenna."

Aerys made his way to where Rhaella was sitting, Rhaegar making to step forward, but stopped himself when his father turned to look at him. He motioned for her to stand, and she did. Pulling her by the hair, he whispered into her ear. "Is Olenna the King?"

"She's the Queen of Thornes," Rhaella retorted; earning her a slap. Rhaegar turned his head, unable to watch on.

"Her arse must hurt than. Now I'm going to ask again. Is Olenna the King?" Aerys snarled.

Rhaella whimpered shaking her head. "No."

He pulled her closer, her hands went to his, which were clamped tightly around her hair. "Who  _is_ the King?" he asked once more.

"You are," Rhaella responded.

"Yes, I am." Aerys nodded, letting her hair go as he began to stroke it. "If I say Rhaegar is going to marry her, fuck her and give the crown proper heirs, then it  _will_ happen."

* * *

 **T** here was a knock on Arianne's door, Oliva got up from her seat at the tea table and opened the door. It was the castle's Maester.

"Arianne Sand?" he asked his hands behind his back. The Maestar seemed young for a Maester to Arianne, unlike Maester Walys; this man was taller more youthful. Arianne nodded her head and stood from the table; he put his hand up as to stop her. "No need, a raven arrived for you from Winterfell is all my lady," he said. Handing Oliva that small piece of parchment, he bowed and walked away from the door.

Olivia closed the door and gave Arianne the letter. "Is it from your father?" she asked, curious.

Arianne tore the letter open and began reading;

_My dearest Arianne,_

_I hope that by the time this raven reaches you, the Tourney has already begun. I am so jealous; I don't think I can stand any more rabbit soup knowing you are eating the best. Enough about me. How is it? Have you met the royal family? I had had the chance to see them once, when they were younger, of course, I hope their beauty has not faded; especially the Queen. Send your sister and brothers love from me, tell Eddard that Rickard waits anxiously to see him. Speaking of your father, he has gone off hunting; your father does not cope too well with loneliness. I also hope you have met Oberyn Martell; I knew him once when he was just a boy of three, and even then he tried to charm me with his winks and giggles. He probably wouldn't even remember me now though. If you see any members of House Dayne, tell them that the Lady of Lemons grieves with you and apologizes for her actions, but she was bound to honor. Write to me, tell me of all your exciting adventures. I also have some exciting news to tell you, but I'm afraid this news will separate us for a time. Take care of yourself and watch your back, the South is a snakepit._

_With love, your truest friend;_

_Lilia Dalt._

Arianne smiled to herself; she felt tears run down her face. Half the letter confused her, what did Lilia mean by the Lady of Lemons? And why was she mysterious on the news she had to tell her? Arianne paid no mind to it though, any news from home was good news. She turned to Olivia."Aye, my father." Olenna had warned her of trusting handmaidens, and though she did trust Olivia, she was reminded enough times to know that the only people trustworthy were those you shared blood with.

"What does he say?" Olivia asked, walking closer to her.

Arianne quickly folded the parchment up and tucked it under her sleeve. "That Winterfell is well and to say hello to my siblings is all."

Olivia frowned but nodded her head nonetheless. They returned to their seats at the tea table, by the window. Olivia had opened the window, allowing every shout and laugh that was said from down below at the armory yard. Not that it annoyed either of them, they spoke lightly and enjoyed the silence they offered one other. The joust had happened, and it was the quiet period between dinner and joust, allowing the ladies to change and gossip and the men to practice and go against one another while their blood was still rushing. Unfortunately for Catelyn, Brandon had been unhorsed by Ser Barristan, who went on to win every fight against every man that went up against him, Robert, Eddard and the Knight, Ser Arthur Dayne; all found themselves on the floor within minutes of the joust. Other activities had been presented that same day, archery and wrestling, though Arianne had to admit that even Lyanna could do better at both sports than any of them men that participated.

Oliva noticed the sun going down and clapped her hands; "Shall we get ready?" She squeaked turning to Arianne.

Arianne nodded her head, and Oliva stood back up from her seat, dragged the trunk from under the bed and unlocked it; revealing Arianne's silk, chiffon and lace dresses. Arianne shook her head, getting up and pushing the trunk back under the bed.

"What are you doing?" Arianne frowned pulling it back out.

"I'm wearing this dress," she responded kicking it back in. "Olenna has said that I must look decent in my attire so that I am not gossiped about."

" _Olenna has said!"_ Oliva scoffed. "Pish posh. You have a beauty that should not be hidden under your Northern rags. Now stop kicking before you ruin your shoes and break a toe."

"These are not  _rags._ Old Nan made this dress for me and it's quite beautiful thank you!" Arianne snapped back.

Oliva looked up at her shocked. "My lady, if I offended you I did not mean to."

Arianne sighed, shaking her head and sliding down to the cold floor next to Oliva. "Not at all. Ever since these lessons with Olenna, I've felt like I have to be someone different to fit in here. But then at feasts, all the lady's are wearing dresses so similar to mine, and it confuses me. How can they talk of another when they do the same?"

Oliva smiled rubbing her back. "Oh sweet summer child, don't try to understand them, it will only bring your the greatest displeasure. Try to better them. Anger them and confuse them. Then they truly won't know what to do."

"But Ole-"

"Is not your mother...or should I say, grandmother?" Oliva said laughing, Arianne laughing along with her. "Now do you want to get ready with your sister or would like to be alone tonight?"

"Alone, I fear my sister has grown bored of me and in love with Robert," Arianne said as Oliva began pulling out dress by dress to examine.

"So be it, come sit at your vanity. How would you like your hair tonight?" Oliva asked as Arianne made her way to the seat in front of the mirror. Arianne looked at herself in the mirror for a little while, tilting her head from one way to another before responding. "How about we add a necklace to it. This red one? Olenna gave it to you as a present," Oliva smiled showing Arianne the beautiful necklace. Oliva was right; it was long enough to go around the top of her head and not break off, so she nodded excitedly. "I have seen the Princess do it, at the joust. You look more Dornish than ever before!" Once they had finished her hair, which was left with just the necklace on top, Oliva pinned red earrings to her ears, and a placed a golden necklace on her neck. She then pulled the golden dress from the trunk and showed it to Arianne, who smiled to Oliva and stood from the vanity. The dress was long, silky and had a flowery pattern to it, going from light to dark. It was respectful, only revealing Arianne's topmost part of her cleavage, but had a slit on the side, which worried both Arianne and Oliva. Arianne did not remember adding that to her dress and concluded that it must have been Lilia who had adjusted.

"What are your plans for the feast? Will it be Oberyn or Jaime?" Oliva giggled, flicking Arianne's ear as she walked around her with a bottle of perfume and sprayed her.

Arianne glared at Oliva. "I think I may find myself falling for Oberyn. I plan on having a little too much wine tonight."

"Absolutely not!" Oliva huffed. "You are allowed to fall for him, but getting drunk and doing god knows what, no no. I will be waiting right here for you as soon as that feast ends. If you are not in your chambers by the time everyone else is in theirs, I will scream this castle down do you hear me? Your lessons with Olenna haven't been for nothing."

"Calm down Septa Oliva, I'll be in bed before you can say boo," Arianne responded laughing.

"I'm being serious Arianne. You have one name in this life, don't go wasting it," Oliva said sternly, pulling Arianne down onto the bed, taking off her shoes and placing golden heeled ones on her feet.

"I understood you the first time," Arianne groaned rolling her eyes.

Oliva sighed shaking her head. "Please remember yourself."

However, before she could respond, however, there was a loud knock on the door. Arianne looked to Oliva confused. "What is it with people and never leaving us in peace?" she muttered as Oliva opened the door. It was Ser Barristan. His helmet was off, and he was dressed in his jousting attire still. The popular white cloak was not flapping around behind him as it usually did. He bowed his head low and gave Arianne a small smile. "My lady," he said.

Arianne curtsied back to him. "Ser Barristan. To what do we owe the pleasure?" She asked him, looking to the confused Oliva.

"It's the King my lady, he requests your presence."

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not been edited and not as long as the others. So sorry for the long update time, I really wanted to show Lyanna a lot in this chapter and in coming chapters. Additionally, what do you think of what Aerys is about to do? Do you think he'll follow through with it? Is Rhaegar the one that Arianne is in a loveless marriage with? DUNDUDNDUN So many questions that even I don't have answers to at this point. Also i figured time was getting confusing so in this chapter Lyanna is in day 3, aerys in day 3, arianne in day 3, the flashback is from the night before. The whole chapter 8 is day 2 except for Olenna speaking with Arianne. Have you realised how Arianne doesn't speak much about Olenna and her lesson, hmmm whats going on there? And how whenever she gets her courage and tries to do what Lilia taught her, she is knocked back down again. I wonder what Aerys is going to say to her, he's such an interesting character to write about, a little bit hard, but very interesting. I hope you enjoyed and incase you don't knowwww IT'SSSSS MY BIRTHDAY TODAYYYY YAYYAA I'M FINALLY 18! All the love xoxoxo Winta


	11. Calm

**CALM:**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

 **R** haegar was sure she would agree to the marriage proposal. From what he had seen of her, she acted on impulse and focused on consequences after the action had been done. And how could she say no to the King? He would have agreed, had it not been for the evident reason that he was already married and wanted his first son, Ageon, to take the throne after him. He could not deny, however, the way he burned for her one touch. It was inhumane almost. Their first night would not stop repeating itself in his head, all through the day from sunlight to sunset. When he closed his eyes, he would dream of her, dream of her fulfilling his prophecy. Dream of her ruling at his side, morphing her into a Queen that was not timid and paved paths for herself rather than followed her husband's tracks. He would dream of the way she smiled, the way she looked up at you when something confused her or entertained her. Nor could he stop dreaming about lying next to her in bed and whispering stories to her until the sun rose.

_The second day during the joust, he could not help but hear his wife and Ashara whisper and giggle to one another. He couldn't hear them technically, but he heard them speak of Dorne many times over. He struggled to watch the joust take place, too busy looking at the back of Arianne's head. Even from behind, sitting down, she was graceful and elegant. He could not help but grow angry as she cheered for her brother, clapping excitdently as he won joust after joust. Elia whispered to him that she wished to retire and he allowed her to leave, asking Arthur to take her and Ashara to their chambers. Knowing full well that Elia wished to retire for secret moments with Arthur._

_"She is a sight for sore eyes is she not?" The foreign voice of Oberyn came, he seated himself where his sister was and directed his gaze to Arianne._

_"You have left your lady love so soon?" Rhaegar responded._

_Oberyn smirked and sat back in his chair. "She has made me bored."_

_Rhaegar looked at Oberyn, raising one brow. "You already…?"_

_"Unlike you dragon, I work fast."_

_Rhaegar scoffed turning back away from Oberyn. "You are something else, Martell."_

_"So what are you thinking Prince Rhaegar? Is she to be your whore or your lover?" Oberyn asked him._

_Rhaegar would never really get quite used to his vulgar language and ability to turn any situation into one of great awkwardness. "She is to be my nothing. I am married she is not. She is a bastard, I a Prince."_

_Oberyn let out a low chuckle. "Do you know how stupid you sound right now?" There was a short silence as they stared at each other._

_"What about you Prince Oberyn? Is she to be your lover or your whore?"_

_Oberyn laughed once again. "She is to be my wife. She will give me beautiful sons and daughters. I will take her to Dorne where she belongs, far away from the shit pile you call home."_

_"You speak of her as if she is yours."_

_"She will be, soon enough."_

He wondered why his father was so pressing on the matter of marriage. Was it the fact that he had been close friends with her father? Or did he truly come to despise the Martell's? He sat down on the couch next to his mother; it was far too soft for his liking, the leather as well, gave off a horrible death like smell. His father, stood behind them, waiting for Barristan to bring the girl in. He should've been ecstatic, over the moon and kiss his father's feet, for he had fallen in love the moment he set eyes on her. But he couldn't, his body wouldn't let him do it. If it were he to purpose the marriage, Rhaegar was sure he would've fought for it, fought to separate from Elia and take her as his bride. But when the order came from his father's mouth, he did not want to. Just the way he had planned his father's demise, slowly but surely it would happen; the Lords of Westeros had been quick to agree with him, fearful for their families and livelihoods if the King would be allowed to continue the way he was going. Making enemies far and wide.

Nor did he want her in harm's way, Kings Landing was no place for a delicate little thing like her. She had already been the center of attention the moment she blinked to the despicable lords and ladies, the moment she spoke a word, the moment she smiled or laughed, she did not need spies and eyes watching her every move for the rest of her life. The door creaked open, and the clinking of her jewelry entered the silent room. She smiled to the three, curtseying as low as she could and standing back up again, Barristan went to close the door.

"Stay," Aerys' voice demanded. Barristan nodded his head, entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Lock the door."

"Yes your grace," he muttered, a small shutting sound was heard and they were officially barred from the rest of the world.

"Sit down sweetling," Rhaella smiled. She had put powder on her face to hide the red mark that had been forming, it seemed she had carried it in her breast. Rhaegar's heart dropped when he saw her pull the tiny jar of white power out. His own mother was forced to carry  _that_ around for the rest of her life. She was forever chained to the pain he caused her.

"Yes your grace," Arianne's voice squeaked. Rhaegar couldn't help but let a small smile out towards her. She looked beautiful as ever, better than the night before. It seemed that, as a flower did so, she would grow more beauty every day. She wore a dress that mesmerized him, if not for the circumstances, would've entranced him. Her hair was tamed with a red jeweled hair piece, something Rhaegar had seen Elia, Ashara and many of the other Dornishwomen in Kings Landing do.

As she went to sit next to Rhaella and Rhaegar, Aerys cleared his throat. "We've saved a special seat for you actually, right here." He said smiling. It did not do his face any good, only making him look madder than he already was. He led her, hand on her back, to the seat he had been occupying just a few moments ago. He stood behind her and smiled yet again; but this time to Rhaegar. "We have good news for you little one." Aerys was sure at that moment, so sure, that she was Serene's. He had never been so close to her, only for mere seconds, but now that he looked at her, looked at her properly; she was his. She had the very same birthmark situated at the middle of her forehead, just as he did. He remembered his Maester telling him that the Gods would kiss those worthy of a crown on the forehead. Rhaegar had the very same one, though he was almost always covered by his hair. She also had his and Serene's eyes. A foreign purple, one that did not belong to neither Dayne nor Targaryen, but was mixed with both. She turned in her chair to look at him. Aerys could not believe, a young girl as herself, was not fearful of him. And if she was, she had been hiding it well. She sat proudly in the chair, blinking up at him and waiting for his word.

"Befor-" Rhaella began, only to be interrupted by Aerys' voice.

"Hush now wife," he drawled, looking back down to Arianne who was now frowning at the tension. Rhaegar seemed to be scratching, clawing and clutching the couch, his jaw sharp enough to cut through flesh. "How do you feel about marriage little one?"

"Marriage your grace?" Arianne questioned, unsure of what the King was implying.

"I'm sure your Lord father has educated you enough to know what marriage is," Aerys responded, letting out a cackle.

Arianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat but nonetheless nodding. She turned back around in her seat, unable to crane her neck anymore. "Aye, he has."

"And he has taught you the rough tongue of the North," he added laughing silently to himself. "How do you feel about it then?  _Marriage?"_

"Whatever and whomever my father wishes me to marry, I shall marry. I understand it's a duty to be fulfilled of a lady," she responded.

Rhaegar flinched at her response.  _Had she been taught to think so? Or was she too smart for her own good?_ But apparently, his father brought her act or honesty.

"A lady who knows her place," Aerys smiled nodding his head behind her. There was a long silence that fell upon the room, the only sound coming from Rhaegar's tapping foot and Rhaella's shuffling on the couch. Aerys placed a hand upon Arianne's shoulder, "We were thinking..." He was always one for suspense. "A royal invitation to Kings Landing. A beauty such as you should not be locked up in the North. Kings Landing is the perfect place for a flower to bloom." Rhaella and Rhaegar frowned to each other, Rhaella the most confused. The man would say he was going to say one thing and tell the intended another. A web of lies that Rhaella and Rhaegar preferred to stay out of. Rhaegar especially; though he knew that Aerys was playing his game right. She would have no way out of the capital once she was in it.

Arianne smiled up at him, but shook her head. "My King is too kind. I wish one day to see Kings Landing with all my heart, but I have been invited to Riverrun for my brother's wedding, to Storm's End for my sister's wedding, then to Highgarden to be Lady Olenna's ward."

Aerys raised a brow and laughed to her. "A busy lady you are indeed. But a Kings command is a King's command. You  _will_ come to Kings Landing after this Tourney is finished."

Arianne looked at the Queen and then to Rhaegar, who both had their heads low; looking away from the King and Arianne. She was left speechless, unable to respond to him. "My family are my most loyal companions your grace. Do you think it right to forbid me from seeing them married?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I am King," He responded, his hand tightening on her shoulder.

"I am sure my father has already agreed with Lady Olenna to have me be her ward in Highgarden as well."

Aerys glared down at her. "It seems my lady does not  _want_ to accompany us at Kings Landing?" Arianne snapped her head back to look at him, shaking her head nervously. She now knew why the called him mad. "Good. Your father will do whatever I ask him to do. I will inform my maesters to send word, he can visit you if he wants."

"I'm not sure if word will reach him in time, he's been... _hunting."_

"Then his maester will respond agreeing," Aerys responded. "Thank you for joining us dove, that will be all for now. I hope to see you at the feast." And with one last squeeze on the shoulder, Aerys made his way to the large window in his room, dismissing Arianne. She curtseyed to him, then to the Queen and Rhaegar, before shuffling out of the room behind Ser Barristan. Once she had walked out, Rhaegar too from his seat and followed her, not wanting to be in his father's presence any longer.

Barristan and Arianne had only made it as far as the end of the wooden hallway and Rhaegar walked towards them, tapping Barristan on the shoulder. The Knight turned, bowed to Rhaegar and returned to his post at the foot of the door.

"My Prince," Arianne whispered, curtseying. Rhaegar could see that she had turned red, her cheeks rosy and her ears fuming. He could not help but smile at her reaction.

Rhaegar wondered if she had grown tired of the act, she had done it so many times that day. "No need for formalities, you know me and I know you."

Arianne let out a snort. "You know my lips and I know yours. If you'll excuse me, I must return to my chambers."

Rhaegar laughed at her remark. "You have spent two days with the Queen of Thrones and you grow spikes on your stem my lady."

"It seems so."

"Forgive my father Arianne; he has not been himself since-,"

But she cut him short. "You don't have to talk on behalf of your father. If he wants me to visit Kings Landing, then I shall visit Kings Landing. I can always see my siblings afterward." Arianne smiled to him, though wishing she had not. She had tried her hardest to stay away from the young Prince, force herself to set her sights on more reasonable,  _eligible,_ suitors. But it seemed that her heart had wanted a different story, a tragic one. And now, she would be in Kings Landing beside him, living in such close quarters made her fear. Arianne could not help but blush at their silence, he made no shy of his wondering eyes, moving from her head to her toes than from her toes to her head. How could she stay angry, or sad, knowing that she would be able to be or even gaze upon him at a moment's notice? Though she was sure she was going to miss her siblings, she would have ended up alone in Winterfell by the time they returned. Bejen had planned to leave with the Nights Watch by the end of the Tourney; Ned would be at home, but not for very long. A second son was a good alliance maker, and Lyanna would be heading for Storms End. She would have Lilia, her father, Eddard, Brandon, and Catelyn; their children possibly; until she would be married to the man her father or she deemed worthy. It confused Arianne, the way the gods had arranged things to happen so quickly. They would be growing up once and for all, only to see each other through letters and name days of their children.

She shook herself from her trance, realising that he had gone quiet and waited for her to speak again. "I'm afraid that I really must return to my chambers Rhaegar. I have grown tired of people gossiping about me." She added, looking around and down to the courtyard where eyes would dart ever so often.

Rhaegar let out a laugh. "That will be the least of your worries in Kings Landing. Trust me."

"You speak your homes name with a sound of distaste?" She frowned, confused as to why Rhaegar would speak ill of Kings Landing.

"Dragonstone is my home. Valyria is my home-"

Though he was interrupted by her laughs. "Old Valyria do you mean. The home that was doomed before seven generations of your family were born."

Rhaegar nudged her with his right arm playfully. "It is still my home."

"Hurting a lady could see you in chains, my Prince," the drawling voice of Oberyn came behind Rhaegar.

Rhaegar clenched his jaw and turned to Oberyn, smiling at him. "Don't tell my father."

Arianne looked between the two of them, stepping around Rhaegar and taking Oberyn's outstretched hand. "I hope to see you again soon, Prince Rhaegar," she said. Oberyn nodded towards him and made to leave. Rhaegar quickly grabbed his free arm and looked at him knowingly. Pleading with his eyes almost. Oberyn yanked his hand away, glared at Rhaegar and led the way down the many steps of the room chambers and to the courtyard. And as Rhaegar watched them leave, he could not help but noticed the way Arianne tucked her hand into Oberyn's as they walked through the maze of rumble towards the back of the castle.

"Sometimes, we must let the ones we love most, go," the voice of his mother came from behind him.

Rhaegar shook his head. "No, we mustn't." And with that, he was making his way back to his room.

Down below the chambers, near the ruins of the great towers of Harrenhal, Oberyn led the way around the multiple decimated courtyards. Weaving through fallen stones and forgotten possessions that lay on the floor. He led them to the smallest west side tower, the least ruined of them all and helped her climbed the many stairs. Arianne wondered why he wanted her there but did not ask any questions. Once they had reached the top, she understood though. The tower overlooked the Gods Eye, though the flowing lake was a little far off, it was still large and visible as ever from where they stood.

"The Northern shore of the Gods Eye is where Harrenhal sits. They say that the pact between the first men and the children of the forest was signed on the Isle of Faces, right in the middle of the Gods Eye. These Westerosi love their myths, forest children and dragons," Oberyn said walking to the empty, dangerous looking, window. Arianne wondered why Harren Hoare would build the tower to be for one room, with no door and just one window.

"I overheard Lord Whent asking his servants to move the stands and joust ring to be along the shore of the lake. Lady Merida did not want to climb anymore steps up and down the bear pit," Arianne smiled. Oberyn smiled with her, laughing at the young girl's sense of humour.

The setting sun made the peaceful water, shine like a sheet of beaten copper. It was the biggest lake either of them had seen, seeming to have no hint of a far shore. Oberyn cut the silence short between them. "So…what pleasure did you owe them?" He asked.

Arianne looked at him quizzically, though knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Who?" Oberyn answered her question with a playful look. She sighed and replied; "the King wishes I join the royal family to Kings Landing."

Oberyn's face turned to stone, his playful eyes losing their glimmer. "No."

"What?" Arianne frowned.

"No way."

"Sorry  _father_ but it isn't your choice."

"Kings Landing is no place for a little flower such as you," Oberyn pleaded, moving his hand to her cheek.

Arianne slapped it away. "Don't call me that." She walked away from him, circling around the large room.

Oberyn sighed, unsure of how to truly tell her of how horrible Kings Landing was. "I'm sorry if I offended you." He murmured, inching closer to her. She made no effort to move away, allowing him to stand behind her, a breath way. "Kings Landing…is no place for anyone either than the King." His words were merely a whisper. "The things we see there, they are not things that people should be seeing. I saw a cup bearer burnt to the crisp by fire for pouring too much wine for the King. I've seen great Knights and Lords fall to the ground, on their knees, begging and  _crying_ for mercy. When he does these things, he calls everyone to court, counts us all and makes sure we are there to witness. Bars anyone from leaving, looking down or closing their eyes. Trust me when I say you do not want to go there." A silence followed his words, Arianne blinked her tears away, fearful of the place she had agreed and been  _forced_ to travel to. "On Elia's wedding night, he…made the family, us the Dornishmen, watch as his son took her. We Dornish are free with sexuality but that…that was not free sexuality. The way Rhaegar took her, it was almost inhumane. And when father and I tried leaving-" his voice disappeared for a moment. "the King laughed and congratulated us on our alliance."

"Oberyn you don't have to tell me any of that," she whispered to him, not daring to turn around and look him in the eye.

"I have to tell you, otherwise you will prance in there and suffer the same fate. It's not a fairy-tale Arianne, the only reason I stay is to watch over my baby sister." He whispered back, moving one side of her hair back and placing a small kiss on her neck.

"I tried to decline, for my brother and sister's wedding, but there is no way around it. A King's word is his word."

"Not if he isn't King anymore."

Arianne turned to him and glared. "Don't say such things."

"What? You will have me put in chains for saying what everyone is thinking?" He responded.

"If the Queen or Prince heard you.."

"The Prince created this shit Tourney to bring his father down. You don't think those closest to him want him gone? You don't think they don't know what he is,  _who_ he is? We may live far away from the gossip, but we know what he is called. We are the ones who spread the news of his doings. Give Rhaegar four moons and the King will be choking on his own words, until then, stay as far away from Kings Landing as you can."

"You think it wise to splurge out the Prince's plans like that?" Arianne asked.

"The Lords already know it. Rhaegar would've told you himself…if he had the chance to." Oberyn replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I am not the only one that wishes to make you my bride-"

Before he could finish though, Arianne was snorting at his words. " _Bride._ You are the first man to say that to me. The last three only spoke of different ways they would make love to me."

"What other three?" Oberyn asked, turning a soft red. He took her hand in his and asked the question once more. "Their names?

"Mind, Your, Business. Find them and tell them I say hello," Arianne smirked back.

Oberyn looked at her, the same playful look on his face as before. "Promise me you will return to Winterfell, with your family."

Arianne shook her head. "No, I can't promise you a lie Oberyn. If I go home, my father's head will be the first to roll. I will go to Kings Landing, do as the King wishes me and wait for Rhaegar to take the throne and then go home."

"Or you could come to Dorne, with me?" Oberyn suggested.

Arianne laughed and shook her head once more. "I have no family in Dorne."

"You have me."

"A womanizer."

It was Oberyn's turn to shake his head. "If you come to Dorne with me, the only woman I would want would be you."

"How did this conversation turn from one of myth to my safety to your love?" She asked him, turning away once more, slipping her had from his own.

Oberyn, the man who knew no such thing as personal space, took her waist and pulled her into a hug; though the position did look too comprising to be anything but. "You have read my signals wrong Arianne Sand. I have grown to love you these past four days, and I know you want to love me too. But you are stubborn and refuse to let yourself love any man and split you into so many pieces. Do I want to love you for your mind, show me your mind Arianne, what are you thinking? What goes on inside? I don't care for your body….well I care as much as any many would care," he noted kissing her shoulder. "But I want you to be my equal and not my second, as the men here treat their wives."

Arianne looked to him dumbfound as the words fell from his lips and into her ear. She wasn't sure if he was right on her attitude towards him, he was right; she had split herself into more than she could handle and she needed to stick herself back into one person, but she did not know how. He seemed the perfect match though, unmarried, unbetrothed and offered her a free and liberated future. The future that Olenna told her to look for, to never settle for less than the future where she could have children when she wanted when she was not forced into marriage when she was of sound mind and had no influence in her decisions. "You are the first man to say anything like that to me  _Prince_ Oberyn."

"Let me be the last."

* * *

 **A** n entire year they had been separated from one another, an entire year she spent dismissing her feelings for Rhaegar and picturing herself and Jaime together. And yet Cersei could not understand why Jaime, who seemed smitten with her the first day of the feast, had decided that his beloved sister was now not god enough for him. She had to admit. However, she could not be jealous of his lustful taste; she had taken a liking to that Stark bastard as well, the way Jaime had. But she would not have it, Cersei did not do too well with sharing her toys; a trait her mother always shunned her for, and her father always praised her for. In Kings Landing, she shared her bed with a handful of ladies in waiting and unnameable Lannister knights, sworn to secrecy by death; but none could make her feel the way Jaime did. None were as dominant, hungry and lustful for her as he was, and she missed his touch. Surprised they had even made it three days without a mere kiss, she prepared herself to be ravished, but all she received was a brotherly hug and push to the side as the more beautiful young girl was presented to him. Cersei remembered looking at her during the night of the opening feast. She felt embarrassed for Merida Whent, for she had been outdone at her name day. The bastard girl was too beautiful for her good, either too stupid or too smart to use her beauty. She was long-legged, full breasted with skin so brown that the light illuminated certain parts of it. Rips lips, purple doe like eyes and thick black hair. By the way that the men looked after her, Cersei knew she must have smelt like sin, like some exotic flower or spice. Of course, she was jealous, who wouldn't be. She had her Jaime's full attention; she had the hall's full attention, seven hell's even her eldest brother was biting his lip after her.

And Rhaegar, the only man in Kings Landing that Cersei had failed to seduce, the only man who had never glanced her way twice. From when they were children and her aunt Glenna whispered of her betrothal to him, Cersei grew infatuated with the young prince, dreaming about him. At night, she lay dreaming of the day he would marry her and finally make her his wife. But that would never happen, she would; it seemed; be always up stepped by a Dornishwoman or somewhat Dornish looking woman. Cersei couldn't resist, however, from tempting Rhaegar a few times to her bed, he usually grew angry at the young girl for being so foolish as to flirt with the married prince, wondering if she knew that the consequence for her would mean certain death. And it wouldn't be the law striking her down; it would be her father. So when Rhaegar waddled off with that little girl, it left Cersei to wonder if she had grown ugly. It only took a look in the mirror for her mind to dismiss that fact, and deduced that the girl must have held some powerful spell on her; for no one would refuse Cersei Lannister for a bastard girl.

_No one._

The door of the chambers clicked open, and Cersei quickly untied the laces on the front of her dress. She turned her back to the door, to make sure he wouldn't be able to see her,  _fully_ see her, until she felt him worthy of it.

"Cersei?" Jaime asked, his footsteps loud and his chainmail singing with every step he took. She felt her heat beat stop as his own footsteps halted at the foot of the bed. "What're you doing?" He asked once more.

"One look at the little girl and you've already forgotten about your big sister, brother?" She asked, her voice slow and her words drawn out.

She heard him sigh behind her, the bed sunk as he removed his boots and chainmail. "There's been no time."

"But there's been plenty of time to go to the armoury yard and poke a stick around with those weak boys out there? There's been time for you to bring unnamed handmaidens in here with their rags and unwashed hands? " Cersei scoffed.

Her back was still to him, and Jaime scoffed back at her. "What is it you want exactly?" He asked, touching her shoulder to turn her around, only to be met with the site of her dark green eyes and lips smiling at him. And not to mention, her chest bare, exposed and screaming for attention. He let out a groan and turned around; his sister knew exactly how to gain his attention, exactly how to keep his attention and exactly how to hypnotize him to the point where he felt she was the only one that held the key to his heart. Though Jaime wasn't sure at times if she hid it in her heart or her body.

"I want my brother back," she whispered. He licked his lips and turned his gaze away. "I know you love me, Jaime. I know this is some silly little boyish crush you have on her, so for your sake, I will let her go-"

"Let her go?" Jaime questioned.

"Let her live. Unlike Jian...or Sara...or Haley," Cersei smirked back.

"She is not some millers daughter you can have slaughtered because of your jealousy Cersei. She is the Warden of the North's daughter-"

" _Bastard_ daughter. There's a difference." Jaime stayed silent as Cersei crawled across the bed over to him. "I am not jealous of her Jaime because I know you only want to fuck her. But I want to remind you who the best is." She whispered, snaking her arms around his shoulders and to his chest. She unbuttoned his shirt, agonizingly slowly, and he helped her lift it over his head. He felt her breasts on his back, warm and inviting. "We are one Jaime. The gods punished me and made me a woman, but I know you, and you know me." She ran her fingers up and down his arm, then palmed his crotch area, causing him to squirm under her. "Missed me?" She smirked.

It was almost as if a light had been blown out in his mind, all sane and rational thoughts flying out the window. Jaime had enough of Cersei being in charge, placing a hand on her neck he pulled her closer so that their lips lightly brushed against each other. Pushing her on her back, Jaime pushed himself down on her, their lips crashing together painfully. Climbing over her, he lifted her arms to that they were above her head. Their tongues explored each other's mouths, and they found themselves overwhelmed with the desire for each other. She struggled against his hands which kept hers tightly locked down but moved her hips upwards to his body. He felt her hips press onto him, the sensation driving him wild. He moved to her neck, biting hard on her flesh; so hard she would let out cries of pain, and he ignored her. He made his way down to her chest, tearing the fabric that stood between him and his prized possession, he took one breast into his mouth and allowed his tongue to explore her, using his left hand to pinch the other breast. A small moan of pleasure came from her lips. She could feel something wet dripping between her legs, It seemed like he read her mind, he kissed her chest goodbye and made his way down, down all the way to her knees. If it had not been for the night, he would have been able to see her. Jaime moved his right hand to touch her womanhood; it was soaking wet, so he easily plunged his finger inside of her, exploring her with his mouth and fingers for what felt like an eternity. She let out a breathless moan. Kissing her one last time, he moved up back to her lips, his face inches away from Cersei's. He knelt on the bed as she lay legs spread apart for him, Jaime quickly untied the laces on his trousers and pulled them down.

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spciiiicccyyy. So what do you guys think, I took on board what everyone in the reviews section said and made a chapter plan to help me from now one. I've finished all the way up to chapter 17 now and am just making sure there are no plot holes and stuff like that. Thankyou to NightlyRowenTree for the birthday wish J, and thankyou to EXOkaiKokoBop, Arianna Le Fay, Guest, JazyBear, Bella-swan11, you, TanyaBTM and ProcelainPuppetLady for your VERY helpful reviews. I have considered everything you guys have said and I will be using all the feedback to write my next few chapters. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think as always and sending all my love. Xxx Winta.


	12. A Wife, A Jewel, A Crown

**A WIFE, A JEWEL, A CROWN**

**Riverlands - Harrenhal:**

* * *

 

 **H** ad it not been for the fact that the Tourney was to end after two nights, Brandon would not have been able to stand another night kept up in his room and waiting for the days until he could return to Winterfell. Though he could not deny that Ashara had kept him company, some could argue she had him tranced, Brandon missed the feeling of safety. Not that he was afraid of anything,  _no,_  merely that Winterfell and those that came with it made him feel comfortable. He wished dearly that he had not been so foolish with his  _bastard sister_  regretting the silent words and touches they shared once rumors of her and the Princes' spread. Were anyone to hear of it they would try him for treason and he hoped with all his heart Arianne would not breathe a word of it, as he had done.

Brandon sat by the fire for a while, mesmerized by the crackling wood for a time. The letter that his father had written to him which had left him yearning to leave Harrenhal, lay across his lap, it read;

_My son,_

_I hope you are taking good care of your sisters and brothers at Harrenhal. I know how tedious these things can be. I know though that I have prepared you well. Lilia tells me that Arianne has been getting herself into trouble with a prince or two, it seems she takes after her father; a charmer. Warn he, however, the Targaryen's and Martell's are dangerous families. They belong with each other and no one else, it has been that way for centuries and will be that way for many more to come. Us Northerners stay with our own, or as close to our own as possible. Watch your tongue around those people Brandon, they are scribes in the form of flesh and blood. Take care of your bride to be, you are to wed her as soon as I arrive at Riverrun. And remember, a Lord is faithful to his and his only._

_Lord Rickard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North._

"To be married in a fucking sennight," Rickard whispered to himself, peeling the skin from his fingertips as he did so. "Gods send me strength."

"Maybe you can imagine her to be another?"

Brandon stood from his seat, throwing the letter into the fireplace. "Prince Oberyn? How did you get in?"

"No guard. No lock. It is almost like you are almost begging to be killed my lord Stark.

"A knock would have sufficed."

Oberyn laughed at the Northerner, wondering if he thought him to be so foolish. "And have you ignore me? No. You Northerner's are a crude cluster."

"Not what you seem to think of my sister," Brandon snapped back.

"Good. I thought bringing her up would be awkward, but you've done it for me." Oberyn smirked, seating himself on the corner of Brandon's bed. "I want to take her to Dorne and make her my wife."

"No one is taking Arianne anywhere. She is to return to Winterfell and be as far away from you people as possible," Brandon jeered, laughing at Oberyn's proposal.

" _You_ people?"

"Southerner's."

Oberyn let out a silent chuckle. "Southerners or  _Dornishmen?_  Last I recall you and your sister are marrying outside Northern territory."

Brandon rolled his eyes, seating himself in the armchair once more. "What is it you want Prince Oberyn?"

"Let me remind you, my lord, that it is a close friend of mine, sister almost, that you are  _fucking_ so I suggest you watch your tongue when speaking  _us_ Dornishmen," Oberyn retorted, face flushed a deep red color.

Brandon again ignored the Dornish Prince's remark. "All I can tell you is that my father will never allow a marriage between Arianne and yourself. He has his eyes on a Northern marriage. You see, my youngest brother Benjen doesn't want to follow the Lord's way and wants to join the Nights Watch. My other brother Ned, will probably be given a keep to watch over and a wife to live his days out with, or he'll join the Nightswatch. My sister, Lyanna, will be rotting away in Storm's End with that Baratheon boy. And I will be at Winterfell with wife, but until I am named Lord of Winterfell, I probably won't be there much. So you can see why he wants to keep his youngest close."

Oberyn stood from his seat on the bed, made his way to the door, looked to Brandon and asked, "she hasn't told you has she?"

"Told me what?"

Oberyn tutted and shook his head. "Don't be late to the Prince's meeting tonight. You wouldn't want to miss him raving on about how horrible our King is."

"Would you keep your voice down!" Brandon muttered glaring at Oberyn.

"About the Prince's meeting or about hating the King?" Oberyn smirked, leaving the room as silently as he had entered it.

Brandon stood from his seat, following behind the Dornish Prince and swung the door to his chamber open. His attempts, however, to call for the Prince were futile as he had already vanished. Around him, the chambers all seemed to be empty, with the Kingsgaurd, who were usually situated at the two doors of the Targaryen's, gone and guards of the surrounding families as well gone. Had he missed the announcement for the Tourney? Or did everyone have an event to attend? He did not mind, however, for he was going to find out what Arianne had kept from her family. Once he had reached her chamber, he pushed the door open to find it empty. Her two trunks were neatly stacked by the door, no jewelry present on the vanity nor any dresses laid out on her bed as she had always done in Winterfell. He searched underneath the bed, the pillows and even the rugs that were sprawled out across the room, but there was nothing to be found. Almost as if she were planning to leave on that very night. He opened the drawers to the vanity in the topmost one found a jeweled headpiece, the same one she had worn not too long ago, only this time he was able to notice the large hole where a red topaz was meant to sit comfortably. Brandon, upon hearing the door creak open, dropped the headpiece back into its place and spun around quickly.

"Looking for something?"

* * *

 **M** y lady Lyanna, please reconsider. This is not one of your brightest decisions," Tituba mumbled as she tightened Lyanna's armor as best she could. She  _had_ no knowledge of armory and from what she could guess it was ill-fitting, to say the least. She had however gone to the trouble of painting a smiling weirwood tree, using ground bark, oil, and wine that had taken far too long to stain and dry.

"Tituba," Lyanna groaned rolling her eyes. "You have promised to keep this a secret aye?" Tituba nodded her head furiously in response. "Secrets are not spoken of, so please hush. Besides, I have two days left at this godforsaken place before I can go  _home._ "

"Yes milady," Tituba whispered moving away from Lyanna. "That is the best I can do I'm afraid, I was never good with armor. More  _dresses._ "

Lyanna turned to Tituba slowly, the armor cutting deep into her shoulders from the sheer weight of it. "Enough Tituba. I am doing this and you cannot stop me." Tituba huffed and pushed her untamed hair behind her ears turning from Lyanna to busy herself with cleaning the room. "I do like this tree you've painted on here though," Lyanna sheepishly added looking down to the wet oil paint on the armor.

"Do you really?" Tituba asked smiling, never once turning her head to face Lyanna.

"Aye. I shall call myself-"

"The Knight of the Laughing Tree," Tituba interrupted smiling to her lady.

"Perfect." Lyanna smiled. She reached for the sword that was laid upon her bed, it was almost big enough to go from pillow to edge. "You promise this is the sword of the Tyrell's?"

Tituba snickered pointing to the large rose spiraling from the handle of the sword. "No one…no  _man_ ,"

" – Or  _woman_ ," Lyanna cut in.

"Would ride into anything carrying a sword with a rose on it if it weren't forced upon them."

"Good. How did you get it so easily?"

"Lord Tyrell is as stupid as they say he is. Truly, I fear for Highgarden and the Reach when the Lady Tyrell dies," Tituba rambled.

"Well, it's a good thing we don't live there am I right?" Lyanna added.

"Because living in Harrentown is any better," Tituba responded, rolling her eyes.

"You do not like living here?"

"If you were being looted every full moon and forced to work in exchange for meager meals for your family, then you would not like it here either milady. It's quite a shithole if I am, to be frank."

Lyanna let out a small giggle. "I will see to it that you like living here. I promise you this."

Tituba smiled and bowed her head low. "I will be forever in debt to you."

"Right. Now let us hope that the Gods will be on my side today. Even if you may not be." Lyanna said, going to pick up the sword.

Tituba sighed moving to allow Lyanna to pick up the sword. "I am on your side milady. No harm in fun. But no fun for a lady who is promised to a lord and who already and his a family name to look after."

"I've looked after my family name long enough, now come, I'm going to need a diversion if I want to get to the river in time. You will speak to the guards there?" Lyanna asked.

Tituba smirked, pulling her dress down to reveal the smallest but of her cleavage. "I think I can keep them distracted for a few moments. Just follow me… _silently._ "

It seemed that the Tourney had already begun, for the shouts of the crowd could be heard from a mile away. Though it was more the common people of Harrentown who were looking at the simple contests that were making the most noise. They had managed to get passed the main courtyard without being questioned and were now stood behind the stands, where Kingsguard's and squires were dotted around.

"Who the fuck are you?" A Kingsgaurd frowned, pointing to Lyanna who had placed her helmet hastily on her head a few moments earlier.

She turned to Tituba, "This is The Knight of the Laughing Tree. His name, he would like to be kept anonymous and he challenges Handson, squire of Lord Stark, Bronn, squire of Lord Whent and Gerald squire of Lord Lannister."

"Your knight got no voice of his own?"

"Aye I have a voice," Lyanna grumbled. Her voice a comparable to that of a young boy nearing manhood.

The Kingsguard stifled a laugh. "Piss off."

"I'll have you know that I fight for the honor of Lady Arianne Sand. Call her and see to it that she know I am here. She wouldn't be pleased that her Knight is being turned away." Lyanna piped, puffing her chest out.

"I'm sure she's got plenty others to fill your spot," the guard smirked, nudging the man next to him as they laughed.

"I might remind you,  _ser_ , she is a companion to the Prince, son of the King, the same one you work for. Now if you prunes don't mind," Lyanna huffed, pushing past them and making her way to the outskirts of the Tourney to the announcer.

"Oi. Lord scrub, Harrentown is that way," a squire jeered behind her, gesturing to her armor.

"Just tell your announcer to call on the _Knight_  of the Laughing Tree and Hanson, Bronn and Gerald to compete against he-him,  _squire._ "

She strode to Lord Tyrell as he prepared himself to mount his dark brown, pushed him from his saddle and mounted the horse.

* * *

 **T** he knight wore his breastplate so loose it rattled loudly,  _forcing_ some faint-hearted women to cover their ears in disapproval. He pushed a protesting Lord Frey from his dark brown horse. Walder Frey, a man far too old to even be at the Tourney, let out a yell; his scowls towards his son loud enough for many from other stands to hear. "You weak boy! And you expect me to hand over the Twins to you? Get off the pit fool!"

Lord Frey's horse, however, was rejecting its new master, flinging his head from side to side as the Knight tried futilely to tame him. His armor had a fresh coat of paint, Rhaegar could have sworn the smiling face of the tree and it's leaves were painted on with wine. Atop his horse, he announced his competitors; Handson, Bronn, and Gerald.

 _Squires._ Rhaegar thought, frowning to himself.  _Why squires?_

It happened in mere moments, one second an amateur knight was on his horse charging at the three squires, and the next his horse and been brought down, along with the three squires, who cowered at his feet.

"Mercy ser, mercy," one of them begged, hands clasped in front of his face.

"It's a joust, not a fucking battle. On your feet you pussy," the black haired squire sneered, lifting the weaker squire from his feet from the back of his shirt. "What do you want for ransom? We are only squires, we don't have much to give." He continued, pointing to their tattered swords that lay on the green grass. Lord Whent had chosen the worse place to joust, on the murky grass near the Gods Eye.

The knight shook his head, "I want your masters to teach you honor. That is all I ask. That shall be ransom enough."

Light murmuring overtook the crowd, and the angered masters of the squires scolded them. Jaime Lannister had not seemed to care and brushed the encounter off, ordering his squire back to their tent to ready him for the sword fighting that was to commence soon. Brandon Stark's squire returned back underneath the stands, his master nowhere to be seen. However, the young Walder Whent ordered his squire to hand over his satchel and marched him off then jousting field.

"Poor boy lost his job over some knights honor," Oberyn chuckled to Elia who shook her head at her brother.

"It's not a joke Oberyn. That was someone's livelihood. It's not fair."

"Life's unfair princess," Rhaegar cut in. The mood turning icy, and Rhaegar felt his wife and brother had not wanted him to be apart of the conversation; from their looks only.

Before they could continue their awkward conversation, the King stood from his seat. The pit went silent, expecting their King to congratulate the Knight on his noble gesture. On the contrary, however, Aerys brought up a thin pale finger and bellowed, as much as he could. "Seize him!"

And the commotion began, mummers grew louder as the Kingsguard drew their swords and the nobility attempted to make their way from the stands. The Knight shook his hands below them, urging the Lord's and Lady's to remain seated in his weak voice. Pleading almost as he threw his sword to the ground, his attempts, however, were futile. A lowly girl sent out a small screech from below,

A lowly girl, presumably a handmaiden that had been dragged along to watch the joust. sent out a small screech from below. And had he turned his head around for a moment to see what the handmaiden was causing a fuss about, Rhaegar would not have been able to see the Knight drop his sword and run as fast as he could. Which wasn't  _very_ fast. Though it was fast enough to distract onlookers and save himself from the King's wrath.

"Lord Tyrell!" A knigsguard bellowed, the voice of Ser Barristen. "Where is Mace Tyrell?" He asked once more. The young Lord stood from his seat next to his mother, Barristan signaling him out almost immediately. The poor Lord was dragged from his seat

"Get your hands off of my son you buffoons!" Lady Olenna yelled from the stands, her head held high and looking down to the Kingsguard. Her protests falling on deaf ears as the flimsy Mace was pushed out of the Tourney and towards the castle.

"Lord Whent! Get our men to show mine to your dungeons," Aerys mumbled to his newest close companion. Lord Whent nodded his head and waddled off. The King turned to his son rolling his eyes. "Find that fucker and bring me his head." His voice merely a whisper. Rhaegar nodded his head reluctantly running down the rickety steps of the stand.

He had not run far enough to miss the sight before him, Lyanna Stark; long hair chasing behind her, running towards the castle at a dangerously fast pace. She was unclipping the heavy armor from herself, once it had detached, she let it fall off her back. She would turn her head every once in a while to make sure she was not being followed by the Kingsguard, missing the Prince who was watching after her; although he was hidden by the plentiful bushes. Lyanna came to a stop at a large willow tree, concealing her silhouette and allow for her to undress comfortably out of her armor.

 _Perhaps._ Rhaegar pondered, looking to the tree.  _A bird who sang all the right songs wasn't the best bird._ He felt is legs push to near the tree, to confront her and ask the meddlesome girl why she had put herself in such a situation, but it seemed he had been to late, for Robert Baratheon was creeping behind her, a smile etched on his face and cheeks as rosy as ever.

Rhaegar watched as she lent back on the tree, bending down to take the heavy steel from her body and as Robert whistled and clapped his hands in admiration.

"When my father told me I was marrying a Stark, I expected a Lady, not a Knight," Robert smiled. He must not have had a chance to joust, for he was still in his chain mail, hammerless and handsome as ever.

"Robert," Lyanna smiled, working harder to get the armor off her body; only to find that her palms had gone sweaty at the sight of her betrothed and she was no longer able to find a use for them.

"Let me, tedious pieces of shits these things are. Dunno why we bother to wear 'em," he chuckled, bending down on one knee and removing the armor from her legs with ease. They fell to the floor with a loud clang, but neither paid no mind. She was left in a large shirt and pants, both Robert presumed to be her brothers'.

"Maybe we should move away. I wouldn't want them accusing you of being the frightful Knight," Lyanna suggested, pointing to the armor that had been sprawled around the tree.

"Not even a witch could see behind a willow tree." Robert did not want to let her lead them away, there were too many questions were spinning in his mind. "Why were you in the joust?"

"Those squires were beating Howland Reed, my father's bannerman. I couldn't let them get away with that," Lyanna responded shrugging.

"So instead of letting a man-"

"A mere boy!" Lyanna interrupted.

"Fight for himself, you fought for him?" Robert questioned.

"Aye. I did." She responded proudly, nose held high in the air. Robert patted her pants and crotch area quickly. "What are you doing!" She shouted pushing his hands away.

"You have to have a cock. I have never met a woman such as you," Robert smiled.

Lyanna laughed, slapping his arms. "Unlike most women, I do not wish to be constrained by the wishes of men around me." There was a short silence between them. "You won't stop me from riding...or fighting...will you?" She whispered to him biting her lip.

"The only thing I'll ever stop you from is leaving me," Robert whispered back, smiling down at the wondrous creature in front of him. "You are a different breed of Stark altogether Lyanna Stark. You aren't boring. Or ugly. Or both. Are you sure you're a Stark."

"And you aren't funny. Or stern. Or attractive. Are you sure you're a Baratheon?" That earned her a pinch on the cheek. It was almost as if they had been molded for each other. Lyanna and Robert. Robert and Lyanna. It had a special ring to it those two names combined.

And as they  _lightly_ wrestled there by the Gods Eye and under the oak tree, Rhaegar could not help but feel that was meant to be him. Finding her undressing and confronting her. Lyanna was as wild as a weed, but he struggled to find fault in her. Robert Baratheon had stolen his fate, his destiny and now he would have to find a new fate. Or steal that fate back, whichever one the Gods willed him easier

* * *

 **T** he morning sun hit Rhaegar with an unwanted force. The maids had taken it upon themselves to open the curtain's to his and Elia's room, leaving him groaning to be left alone in peace.

"We are late for the joust my love," Elia drawled her words an act of reassurance for the maids rather than for Rhaegar. "And today, you are to beat Ser Arthur." Her eyes twinkled at the words, almost doubting Rhaegar would make a match for  _her_ Arthur.

It took the maids no time once Rhaegar had dragged his stiff body from the bed to dress him and crown him, leaving him painting perfect. Two knocks on the door was all it took for Ser Barristan to swing it open and lead the way to the jousting pit.

Rhaegar could not deny either, that his wife had been made to look as beautiful as ever. His fragile wife the epitome of wealth, her handmaiden's dressed her in a dark green dress with jewelry that seemed to swallow her alive and make music as she walked.

"Ready be beaten to the pulp my Prince?" Barristan asked, laughing to Rhaegar.

"I have placed a special order for a boatload of wine from Dorne and Maester's from the ends of the world coming in today actually. Pray to the God's Arthur fears the wrath of my father today, I have seen our friend one too many times in the pit," Rhaegar responded entwining his arms with Elia's. "Either way, you will be crowned today. Whomever the victor."

Elia smiled to her husband, thankful he understood of her love and shook her head. "I believe Arthur intends the crown of beauty for his sister."

"She is quite the sight," Barristan added.

"I don't know how the men of the guard do it."

Elia rolled her eyes. "Always the one for introductions," she muttered to herself as her brother Oberyn joined them to the joust.

"How does he know what we're always talking about?" Rhaegar whispered to her.

"Because he is a mouse. Ears up, nose down." Elia responded shaking her head.

"I hear they fall off it left too long. Is that true Ser?" Oberyn teased, patting Barristan on the back. "I would end my life if I were never able to touch my lover's sweet body once more."

"Which one?" Barristan laughed.

"All of them." Oberyn sighed.

Elia rolled her eyes once more at her brother as he continued to be of annoyance to Barristan. "So tell me, where has my husband been sneaking to all these nights? I pray you do not tell me to that young bastard girl's bed."

Rhaegar smirked at his wife. "Jealous are we?"

"No. Your mother is worried is all. She says that it is empirical you are not to near the girl."

Chuckling, he asked, "is she a jewel not to be touched?"

Elia's lips formed into a straight line, glaring at the young Prince. "You have two children Rhaegar."

"And a third will come," Rhaegar responded, raising a brow at her.

Elia shook her head. "Not from me." A short silence followed them, the only sounds heard were of Oberyn and Barristan bickering behind them, her jewelry as she moved and the nearing sound of splashing water. Elia looked to her husband, who had looked away from her, almost ashamed of himself. "Not from me." She repeated once more. She took her hands from his, huffed and walked an inch in front of him. "Ride well husband."

...

Rhaegar heard the screams of the crowd as his tip of Arthur's lance hit him full force, his skull ringing and filling his ears with unwanted sounds. He was glad that the maids had not mentioned breakfast, for nausea was making its way from his stomach to his throat. The tip of Rhaegar's lance had thrown Arthur from his own horse, pushing the crowd to chant for the Prince loudly. Rhaegar let go of his horse, allowing the steed to make its own victory lap for he was too busy ridding himself of his helm. His squire, a boy from house Sunglass, took Rhaegar's helm and the leather ropes of the horse.

"Well ridden my Prince," Lord Whent announced as he waddled over to Rhaegar. In his hands, the crown for his Queen of Love and Beauty. Rhaegar almost feared touching it, it seemed too beautiful to simply  _give_ to someone. The crown was a twisted wreath of black burnt vines, winter roses, so blue it would put the sky to shame, and sprinkles of jewels. He took the crown in his hands, thanking Lord Whent as he did so, took the ropes back from his squire and led his horse to the stand where his wife sat. He looked around, he had put too much thought into it that he considered throwing the damn thing into the air and crowning the ghosts of Harrenhal if need be.

But, he was married, and he was obliged to hand it to his off. So why weren't his hands nor mind willing him to give it to his wife? He neared the stand, his eyes flew to Lyanna Stark. She was sat between her brothers and wore the colors of the North, grey, and grey. Arianne sat beside her eldest brother, Brandon, she wore a green dress accompanied by a red necklace, one she seemed fond of recently. And his wife, sat behind them, next to his mother and father, stone face. Elia crossed her arms over her chest,  _daring_ Rhaegar to give the crown away. Any choice he would make would be the wrong choice.

Though he did not want to know it, he knew exactly who he was crowning. Rhaegar cleared his throat, pulled his sword from his side, placed the crown that the tip of it, leaned forward and gently lay it on her lap. It felt as if a giant had held his breath inside the stands for what came next couldn't even prepare Rhaegar.

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three fucking months later and I am so sorry. I was so stressed out from exams which are now finished and now I'm graduated as fuck and have no clue what I'm gonna do with my life so I'll probably be updating .day if i'm not watching shameless, napping or wanking :P I hope you enjoy this, lemme know what ya'll think and I cannot wait to update the rest of the chapters. Trying to make it more interesting so I'm speeding up this Tounrey because even I'm bored now. I've been reading and watching different stories/moves/shows so I have some plotlines in mind. I want to rewrite it all but I'm lazy and don't want to change it so I'll try to develop Arianne into a not so cliche mary sue (thankyou to guest for pointing that out to me because I reread this fanfic and I think i got carried away with making my own perfect character I forgot to unperfect her) I'll leave you to your late night/mid day/ early morning birds chirping reading time xxxx Winta. (PS this is unedited because it's 2am and I just wanted to give you guys something anything to let you know I'm alive)


	13. Black Dinner

 

**BLACK DINNER**

**Harrenhal**

* * *

 

 **B** randon, who was sure that Ser Arthur Dayne threw himself from his horse, clapped along with the crowd as the Prince removed his helm and took a victory lap around the pit. He had been bested by Ser Barristan, and Ser Barristan by Ser Arthur. Brandon doubted that Rhaegar's experience, when compared to Ser Arthur, could match up. That and he refused to allow himself to believe that the Prince to be as deceitful as he had been.

_"Looking for something?" Brandon spun around, at the door stood Lysa Tully, arms crossed over her chest._

_"Lysa?" Brandon frowned looking at the girl who was soon to be his good sister._

_"My Lord," Lysa responded, smiling to the older boy as she made her way into the room. "Your sister seems ready to leave." She said pointing to the packed trunks._

_Brandon nodded his head, his lips turning into a thin line. "What are you doing here?"_

_Lysa smirked nearing Brandon, who was stood in front of the dainty mirror. "Celebrating Meredith's nameday."_

_"Merida." He corrected, trying to move away from her._

_"What?" Lysa frowned, pulling him down to sit on the plush seat._

_"Her name." He was in the worst possible situation. "It's Merida." The door was left ajar, and at moments notice anyone would walk in on them and suspect the worst. At least whore's didn't have names to them, but a noblewoman. His betrothed's sister of all of them._

_"Someone was in here before. A girl looked to be a maid of some sort. She wore a tattered dress. Maybe she has what you're looking for?" Lysa said, rubbing his shoulders as she did so._

_"I'm not here for anything specific," Brandon responded, moving her hands from his shoulders and standing from the seat._

_"Oh. Is that so?"_

_"Aye, it is."_

_"So this wouldn't be of value to you?" Lysa asked as she pulled a small scroll from under her sleeve._

_Brandon refrained from glaring at the unpleasant girl, not wanting to make her any more annoying than she already was. "You opened the seal?"_

_"Freshly pressed, had to bribe that damned maester to even let me near the scrolls. Back to the subject at hand." Lysa responded. She cleared her throat and read;_

_"My dearest papa - how sweet - I write to you to send my best wishes to Brandon and Lyanna for their marriages. I will pray by the weirwood tree for everyone's safety and happiness. I will not forget what you taught me of the South; I will bear in mind never to trust a soul other than those with my blood in the veins. May your journey to Riverrun be safe, keep Lyanna from trouble and Ned from growing too old too soon. Send my love to Benjen; I have not yet mastered the skill to send a raven to Castle Black, the master's here are of little help. I cannot wait until this tourney ends and my travels show me new sights. More flowers and less mud preferably. Visit me when you can, I doubt I will be able to. I am sure that you have received word of my separation, so this will be no surprise to you. Do tell the others that I wanted to tell them, but my lips refused me the duty of utter those words._

_Love always,_

_Your daughter; Arianne Sand."_

_"Give the letter to the maester, what use is it to me?" Brandon growled, storming out of the chambers as quickly as he could._

"Brandon," the stale voice of Ned brought Brandon back to reality. "You might get crowned, ears up lad."

"Shut it," Brandon hissed glaring at his brother. He watched as the man he had come to despise, Rhaegar Targaryen, mounted proudly atop his horse, turned back to their stand. He wore armour of silver and red jewels, and dragon decorated at the front of the breastplate; his hair was matted from his helm and sweat that had accumulated during the joust. The crowd grew silent as he neared the stand, excited to watch their Prince crown their Princess. Brandon did not see why the crown even existed; its job merely to make the shallow women of Westeros even more shallow. Brandon rolled his eyes as Rhaegar too his sword from his side and placed the crown on it. He felt Arianne, beside him, tense slightly; and saw her hands which were gently placed on her lap ball into fists. Brandon looked from Rhaegar to Arianne; sure he had heard rumors. Rumours though were merely rumors. Rhaegar looked past them, much to Brandon's assurance, and at his wife, but then he looked down. It was almost as if someone, something had pulled his arms and forced him to stand; for when he did Rhaegar placed the crown lightly on Arianne's lap, smiling down at her as he did so.

"For my Lady Arianne," Rhaegar said nodding to Arianne and mentioning for her to put it on. She did as he asked, though her face was hard as stone.

"Thank you, your grace," Arianne whispered.

Brandon, who was now stood up, grabbed the sword tightly, so tightly that he felt what he knew was his blood trickle down his sleeve. He pushed the sword back and Rhaegar having noticed the blood on his hands quickly drew it back.

There was no sound made, apart from the timely throat being cleared or the water hitting the grass, so when the sound Arianne sat, looking to the ground as if an omen were just placed on her head. Brandon took her by her arms, hard enough to give those watching a reason to whisper, and pushed her to walk off the stands. "To your room." He whispered, assuming she had heard him he let go of her arm and she made her way down the steps.

Brandon turned back around to Rhaegar; he opened his mouth to speak only to be stopped by Lyanna who had stood from her seat and gave her brother a look of warning. "That is the  _Prince_ you have just defied."

"That is our  _sister_ he has just humiliated," Brandon whispered.

"A dragon against a wolf. I know who I would place my bet on," Lyanna whispered back raising a brow as she did so.

"Let's hope it's your family," Brandon growled, leaving the stands with one last glare to the Prince.

* * *

**A** rianne walked as quickly as her feet would take her back to the castle grounds, not wanting to be caught up by those who were still in the pit and questioned too many questions to count. She should have been happy, ecstatic, over the moon even of receiving such a gift from the Prince; but she could not be. The small voice, the reasonable one, the one that showed up such little times during her stay in Harrenhal, urged her to throw the crown to the ground, tear it to pieces and give the jewels to a farmers family. Though another part of her, the part that tended to win in decision making, told her to scream with happiness for she had won the two Prince's favors.

As she contemplated how exactly to react to the crown, Arianne saw a something starkly white and red flash past her. She turned around and there in the midst of a few willow trees, and a small pond sat a weirwood tree. The very one she had been searching for during her entire stay at Harrenhal. Her promise to her father would be solidated now, that much she knew of. Arianne looked to the lake where an influx of royalty was making their way to the castle, looked left and right and quickly made her way to the tree. It was secluded, allowing the privacy she desired.

Lifting her skirt to allow her the comfort of getting on her knees in front of the tree, Arianne clasped her hands together and began to whisper silently to herself.

"Praying won't help you now girly." Someone whispered beside her. Arianne let out a yelp, only to have her mouth covered. Mud, ale and blood, the distinct smell of a peasant. Arianne pushed the hand from her mouth and turned to see her attacker. A small woman with dark eyes, matted unwashed hair and powder white skin smiled back at her.

"What do you want?" Arianne asked, her voice shaking as she did so.

"You have nothing to fear from me," the woman jeered laughing as she spoke. "Want to hear your fortune told mildly?"

Arianne shook her head, standing up. "No thank you."

"I can answer any questions you desire,  _any._  I can tell you that your letters are not reaching home."

Arianne frowned at the woman. "How do you know of my letters? Have you spies!?"

The woman cackled, rolling her eyes. "I don't need spies. I have my own eyes. I am Maggy the Frog of Lannisport. Cersei fucking Lannister dragged me here so I would make sure that the Prince fell in love with her. Stupid bitch."

Arianne's eyes widened, and she backed away from the woman. "If her lady Lannister were to hear you speak like that, she would...she would...-"

"Heard the stories have you? Well, I've seen your stories, so do you want 'em or not?"

Despite her yearning to do as she was told and return to her room, Arianne nodded her head. "They will be true?"

"You almost fucked Brandon Stark on your journey to Harrenhal."

"Not so loud, please."

Maggy smiled, mentioned for Arianne to sit on the grass once more, pulled her hand from her side and pricked it with a knife. Arianne grunted with displeasure as she brought the bleeding finger to her lips. Arianne looked at the woman in disgust, and she sucked on her fingertip, her eyes closed and brows furrowed, she let go of her finger and wiped her lips with her own. When she opened her eyes, Arianne almost screamed. Her once brown eyes were absorbed by her pupils, the only sight visible was black.

When she spoke, her voice sent a shudder down Arianne's back. "Arianne Sand of House Stark, your heart desires every man it meets, and your body entwines them in a longing lust. Three crowns you will be crowned, all of which will fall from your head in rejection. Your time as a wolf is coming to an end, the time of your reminders of home is coming to an end, by the time you are married you will have a son, by the time you are married you will have a daughter, your sister will bring to your doorstep the greatest burden of life, your brother will be slain by a brother, your father will be slain by a father and your sister will be slain by the grasp of a brother. A tragic beginning to life you had, though it does not now, will haunt you when you arrive at the pit of snakes. Red jewels in clear water. Keep your eyes peeled for it is your own that seek to hurt you. And remember, precious topaz is cut best oval, red beryl is cut best squared. The second is for crowns the first for pretty necks." And with a wink, she stood up and left Arianne in a riddle of words.

...

 **T** he day had turned cold, spring refusing to show face particularly and in turn causing the castle to turn into a ball of wind and chill. The wind hitting Arianne's dress, her sweaty hands clamped over the fabric tightly as specks of dirt clung onto the ends of it.  _Oh, how Lilia would hate me for dragging this masterpiece on such a floor._  When she returned to her room, confused more than she was scared, she noticed her trunks had been taking from underneath the bed and placed neatly in a corner by the door. The jewelry she had spent hours arranging by colour and piece was gone from the vanity, leaving it empty and bare as it had been when she arrived. Taking off the blue wreath she placed it gently on her bed, where a piece of parchment lay aimlessly. She picked the scrolled parchment, unraveled it and let out a sigh. Someone had opened it. The seal had been torn instead of melted off.  _Either they were stupid or had no intention of sending this back._ Pursing her lips, she tucked the scroll underneath her sleeve.

Behind her came a rustle, the door was pushed shut. "Before you told your brothers and sister you were leaving our party."  _Brandon._ Her eldest brother, the very one who had wiped his bloodstained hands on her dress and pushed her from embarrassment to more embarrassment. Something she was sure the crowd would take home with them, the bastard of Winterfell thrown from the jousting stands by her raging brother.

Arianne shuffled over to him, her hands placed behind her back. "Brandon I'm-"

Before she could respond to him, however, he retorted back at her. "I assumed you would be back before everyone else, and yet here you are arriving later than us all."

"I found a weriwood tree and stopped to pray and last time I checked you weren't my father," Arianne responded.

"Aye I'm not, but I am your older brother." Brandon reminded her, angered that she would speak to him so.

"And older brother who drunkenly-"

"You are to go to Riverrun with us tomorrow." Again he cut her off, though this time it wasn't anger that made him do it, but shame.

"My travels are a  _royal order_ , Brandon." Arianne reminded him. "You may be my older brother, but you are in no position to overrule that."

"You are so quick to leave your family?" She did not respond, he was right, but this was her decision to make and not his. "Arianne." Even those pleading eyes could not stop her.

"Brandon let me make this decision for myself. I think I may be-"

"Say you are in love and I will purge this entire castle," Brandon said glaring at her, his hand, which was covered with a white cloth, gripped his sword.

"Not love no," Arianne stuttered. "Just."

"Then what is it?" Brandon asked.

"I am to marry him, Brandon. It's what the King wants." Arianne replied shrugging.

"Which one are you to marry?" Brandon scoffed.

"Rhaegar. I am to marry Rhaegar."

"You would willingly marry into  _that_ family?"

Arianne nodded her head. "They have told papa, and he has agreed."

"He has not mentioned it to me in any of the letters he has sent." Brandon chimed.

His statement was followed by a short silence. "He hasn't been getting my letters it seems. Look." She pulled out the letter she had found on her bed.

"I know. How do you think I knew you were leaving? It's not like you told us."

Arianne glared at him, balled her fists and hit him as hard as she could on the chest. A pinch to him it seemed as he did not react. "You've been stopping my letters!?"

"Lysa Tully came waddling in here yesterday and read it out loud."

She frowned.  _Yesterday?_ "Why were you in my room? Is that why you weren't at the joust? Why wasn't the letter there yesterday?"

"I had a hunch you were hiding something, and you were." Brandon snapped back. "And maybe our maid might have picked it up-"

Arianne shook her head. "No. Oliva wouldn't keep anything from me."

"Clearly."

_Why would Lysa care about my letters?_

"She begged the maester's to give it to her. And she mentioned a maid to have been seen walking into your room?" Brandon said, noticing the confused look etched on her face.

"That was probably Oliva. She mentioned to me this morning that she had come in here to clean up." Brandon shrugged back at her. "No," Arianne said, shaking her head as she paced the room. "Lysa Tully, from those god awful tea parties that the Queen has been hosting is a jealous little wench who would drink to my demise."

"Your demise. Who has taught you to think this way." Brandon questioned.

"Olenna Tyrell. And yes my demise. You should see the way she whispers and glares at me, Brandon. As if I have wronged her personally."

"Maybe you have? Have you mimicked a dress she has worn?"  _How petty does he think women are?_ "Have you stared at her for too long. Catelyn did mention her sister to be the…moody type." Arianne shook her head. "Has a male she takes an interest in taken sudden interest in you?" She ignored him, racking her mind. "Were you not the one who stole the first dance of her betrothed?"

Arianne let out a small gasp, nodding her head. "Oh aye. Jamie Lannister."

"How many Lord's exactly have you managed to get yourself tangled in Arianne? I have never seen you behave this way, especially around men."

"They're more interesting than Roose Bolton or the Smalljon. I may have overstretched myself." Arianne responded honestly.  _Overstretched would be a gentle way to put it._

"And did father not warn you of Olenna Tyrell?" Brandon asked, looking to Arianne as she sat on her bed, her face still one muddled in confusion.

"You mention that now? He warned me of people  _like_ Olenna Tyrell, never her specifically."

"What has been doing for you anyway?"

"She has been giving me lessons, and one too many gifts."

"Lessons in what?"

"Well, she wanted to take to the Reach at the beginning, but then our lessons became  _hostile_ once she found out I was going to Kingslanding," Arianne admitted.

"What use would you be to her at the Reach?"

The door pushed open, revealing Oliva, holding a tray with a mug and plate of stew on the side sat a lemon cake. "My guess? She was going to keep you there as collateral." A gust of wind followed her, sending a cold chill into the already cold room.

"Have you been eavesdropping on us?" Arianne asked as the younger girl put the tray down on the bed.

"My Lord Stark," Oliva mumbled giving him an amateur curtsey. Brandon smiled back at the girl. "You have mentioned that her children are her life and she wishes to have her daughters married to high lords. It's as if all those lessons taught you nothing." Oliva said rolling her eyes. She pointed to the tray and looked at Arianne, who in turn shook her head. "Also, I'm here because the King requests your presence in the dining hall. Merida has called for a hearing."

"A hearing!?" Arianne cried looking to her brother for advice.

"She says that she has a witness to a  _heinous_ crime," Oliva responded, shrugging her shoulders.

"Father was right, this is a bottomless pit of snakes," Arianne sighed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother, who from the time Oliva had barged through her door had kept silent. "So you're going to go?" He asked her, lips pursed and brow furrowed.

"It's the way it's meant to be," Arianne responded.  _Besides, I could not bear to look Oberyn in the eye and tell him that I have made my decision. How ecstatic he had seemed when planning their future._ Arianne knew that his smooth voice and silky words would be missed dearly, but they were not the traits of a husband.

"Stay with us until father arrives at Riverrun, then you tell him of what the King has told you-"

'"He already knows it."

"Which is why he mentioned it to me in his most recent letter?"

"Show me the letter."

"Are you questioning my honesty."

"I am questioning your ability to read between the lines."

"I burnt it."

 _Of course, he did._ "I am my being now Brandon. I have waited long enough for papa to do it for me but he wishes to keep me cooped up in Winterfell until the end of his days."

"As so he should. You are reckless and foolish." Brandon scoffed shaking his head.

Oliva cleared her throat before anything more could be said, "I was told that you were to eat and leave or just leave Arianne. We shouldn't waste the Kings time."

Arianne nodded her head, she looked at her brother, her eyes almost begging him for forgiveness. "Please understand this Brandon." She took hold of his hand and led the way to the door. "Let's go and see what heinous crimes I have committed, we can talk later after dinner."

Oliva once more cleared her throat. "They asked for only  _you._ "

Brandon frowned, looking at the maid in suspicion. "Tell me how it goes." He said to Arianne, letting go of her hand and leaving the room.

Oliva replaced his hand with hers and led the way to the dining hall. Once they stepped outside, Arianne noticed that the day was drawing to an end, the sun mixing with the sky and creating an array of reds, oranges, and purples. "It's so beautiful." She said, tapping Oliva's arm. Oliva merely nodded in response, humming her agreement. "I wonder what they think I have done. Did they mention anything to you?" Arianne asked her once more, twiring the necklace she wore in her fingers.

Oliva looked at the girl sighing, her eyes desperate to tell her something but her lips refusing her. "You will be alright."

"Now you sound like a Northerner. So superstitious," Arianne said laughing. She looked left and then right, wondering if Oliva knew where the dining hall was. "Are you sure this is the way?" She asked, stopping. "I'm sure it was so much closer to my room." Her response was silence, Oliva merely nodded her head and pulled her along. They reached the stables not too long after, and Oliva stopped in her tracks.

"I was asked to bring you here, it was a royal command I would not have done it had it been otherwise," Oliva mumbled, letting go of Arianne's hands. "You will be safe," Oliva stated, almost trying to assure herself rather than Arianne.

Arianne looked at her once more confused, but it did not take her long to realise what was happening. Two Kingsguard stood by the stables; their helms placed securely over their heads, white cloaks brushing the floor, and hands tightly grasping their swords. "No," Arianne grunted, pushing past Oliva, only to be pulled back by a rough hand.

"So people don't ask questions." The man said, his voice muffled by his helm.

"Let me go or I will scream bloody murder on you," Arianne whispered, trying to shake her arm free of his grip.

The Kingsguard turned to Oliva and then back to Arianne. "The Queen and Princess are in the carriage waiting; we are not here to hurt you."

"But my brothers and sister. I haven't-"

"So people don't ask questions," the guard repeated.

"Questions about what?" Arianne snapped back. "Oliva?"

"It's best this way." She said. Leaning in Oliva grabbed Arianne by the back of her neck and whispered. "Leave now, worry later."

* * *

**D** inner was a loud affair, and Brandon could not help but notice that his youngest sister had not joined them. The royal families seat was also vacant, with only the King, Rhaegar and Oberyn present, all of whom ate in silence. Brandon wondered what it must have been like for the young Prince, to be followed around by the shame of having a delirious father who was probably responsible for the deaths of many at court. He turned to his sister, who had been talking or  _yelling_ to Robert. "Where you at the hearing?"

Lyanna frowned at her older brother. "Hearing? Of what?"

"Arianne's maid told her there was to be a hearing. Merida Whent had accused her of something."

"Merida Whent was with Lysa right after the joust; I saw them talking to Lannister guards. Maybe she got the names mixed up; I wouldn't be able to keep up with this many lords and ladies."

Brandon felt his heart sink. "No. It wasn't an accident. Get up." He ordered, lifting her by her right arm. He mentioned for Ned, who had been consumed in a conversation with Howland to stand as well.

"I was enjoying my dinner," Lyanna whined glaring at Brandon.

"Outside now," he said pointing to the door. But as he had done so, the had been pulled closed by one of the Whent guards and shut, the musicians seemed to follow their cue ending the song that they had been playing. Brandon turned his head to the high table, wondering what their actions meant. A handful had noticed the change in atmosphere, with the Prince himself standing from his seat to question the Kingsguard that stood behind him.

"What's happening?" Ned asked, pointing to the doors.

Brandon shrugged his shoulders and mentioned for them to sit down, Lord Whent had risen his hand to speak. "It seems every night these feasts grow emptier and emptier. I just wanted to thank my King, for journeying such a long ways and honouring me with his presence. I would thank the Queen but well we can't have everything. I want to thank you the lords and ladies of Westeros for joining us on this joyous occasion, we are glad to announce that Lord Walder Frey has proposed a joining between our houses with his son, Olyver and my daughter Merida."

His announcement was followed by a cry of  _hear hear_ mostly from the Frey family.

Robert scoffed loudly, trying to whisper to Lyanna; "Waste of gold. Poor lord, all this to have a Frey marry into your family." Brandon shook his head,  _to have a Baratheon marry into your family._ He thought, damning his father for choosing Lyanna to be with such a man. Though she seemed to like him enough, Brandon knew that two hotheaded creatures such as them would end up hating each other sooner or later.

It seemed he was too distracted by his own thoughts, for Lord Whent was still giving thanks to anyone and everyone, the speech lasting too long for Brandon's liking. His attention mostly to his missing sister and her lying maid. He did not zone out, however, when a  _spring_ was heard and a feathered arrow flew past his ear, to the high table and hitting the King's shoulder. He gave out a cry of pain as the room grew silent, the silence lasted for a mere second and screams and cries of outrage followed. The archer, seemed to be unlocatable for another arrow flew towards the King, this time it bounced off of Ser Barristan's armour. Brandon, not caring about what was happening around him turned to his sister who had a look of horror etched on her face. He took her head, and pushed it down, her body following and disappearing underneath their table. Catelyn was the first to run to his side, almost as if it were an extinct, clutching his arm tightly as she sobbed silently.

"Down, under the table," he told her and she did as he had instructed. Brandon looked left and right on his table, it seemed that the others had instructed their sisters and wives to do the same for only the men were left standing. He could not help, in that moment of terror, to smile to himself.

Reality struck him and with no sword nor chainmail, Brandon felt his heart thump in his chest violently, almost as if it wanted to leave and never turn back. In the corner of his eye, he saw a rain of arrows fly by and hit the table which the Dornish had occupied, bringing down many men. He turned to see from where they had come from, the musicians stand. Others had already caught onto it though, Jaime Lannister, the fickle boy, pulled a musician who held a crossbow in his hand from the stand and put a dagger to his throat, Brandon turned his head refusing to witness what came after. He blinked once and it all seemed to be over, with four musicians laying in a pool of blood, a man, unidentifiable to Brandon, laying a few feet from them; he guessed he was the first to fire; and many others who had been caught in the crossfire on the floor.

Lord Whent too sat crouched on the floor, underneath Oberyn Martell, who held a slicing knife that was dripping with blood in his hand. His table seemed to be unaffected, only baffled by what had just occurred, as had he. Behind him, Robert stood swearing loudly, underneath the tables sat many young women, and some men. The seat that the King had sat on was unoccupied, and beside it, Rhaegar stood arrow in hand, his expression neutral, he nodded to Oberyn and they were led out of the dining hall through the servants' door. He scanned his table once more, no one seemed to be hurt.  _A targeted attack,_ he thought to himself.

"Right, it's time to fuck off home now," Lyanna whispered, she had emerged from underneath the table and clutched her brothers hand tightly, her other hand was crippled by Catelyn's hand. Movement in the room returned, with many stepping over the dead Whent guards, which Brandon guessed was thanks to Ser Gerald Hightower who had stood at the rear end of the room and was wiping his hands clean of blood. The doors were opened and the cool night air flowed back into the heavy room. The air compensating for the overwhelming smell of fresh blood and sweat that had filled the room rather quickly. "Go to your room; tell one of our men to take you there, lock the door and open it for nobody. Not even your maids. We leave for Riverrun tomorrow."

"What about Arianne?" Lyanna asked.

"I'll look for her." He responded. "You worry about yourself." She needed no other orders, leaving for the door and grabbing a hold of the first Stark guard she saw standing at the table. Brandon turned to Catelyn, running his hands down her arms quickly. "Where is your sister?"

"She was feeling ill-,"

Brandon felt himself let out a crude swear, bit to his hand as he did. The Whent's hadn't bothered to show up either. When his father had told him that the South was a bottomless pit of snakes many years before, Brandon had not taken it literally. "Howland will take you to your room. Tell the Blackfish that Brandon Stark said it was time to leave." She nodded her head quickly and Brandon called out to Howland. "Open the door for no one." He repeated. Turning back to the table, who were all seated now, Brandon nodded his head. "Get ready to leave by dawn break." And with that he took left the dining hall, wanting nothing to do with the stench nor visuals of it. His mind now focused on finding his sister. There would be no way she was to go anywhere with the Targaryen's.

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm gonna just warn you now, I'm going to tamper a little with the events and timeline. I've updated chapters 1 & 2 for those who didn't know and will be doing the same to the other chapters. Just a clean up and polishing, it will just be a few different lines and plots because I will be trying to make it less confusing. Hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think about the plot twist XD. Thank you to CLTex ,theoriginalsrizzlesouat1D, Amethyst, Tessa, Guest, Des, iHateHotWeather123, Hpuni101, Bella-swan11 for reviewing and giving me the motivation to write. Lots of love, Winta xx (ps sorry if this grammar and spelling sucks, it's 2am and I am way too tired to put this through the microscope) 


	14. Family

**FAMILY**

** Riverlands - Riverrun **

* * *

 

 **T** he three-sided triangular castle, though was not largest that Brandon had seen, left the eye mesmerised. It was made of sandstone and located between the Tumblestone River and the Red Fork of the Trident River. It's simple beauty left even Lyanna speechless. The sluice gates were lowered to the waiting party on the other side of the river, a horn was blown and Brandon led them into the castle gates.

"This is your home?" Lyanna gawked, turning to look at Catelyn and Lysa.

Catelyn nodded back smiling to Lyanna, wanting to be tender with the girl. Afterall, she wouldn't know what state she would be in if her own sister had disappeared after the bloodbath that had ensued at the Tourney. Lysa, however, scoffed to Lyanna and rolled her eyes.

"You are marrying a poor Lord, sister," she whispered. Though from Lyanna's glare, it was obvious she had been heard. Catelyn pinched her sister's thigh, indicating for her to be quiet.

"We have company Lysa, don't be rude," she whispered back. Lysa once more rolled her eyes.

It was true though, Catelyn had offered for Lyanna and Arianne, had she been found, to ride in their carriage. It would allow them to travel faster and cause less commotion when they were leaving. They had taken the Stark's carriage, which was dripping in rugs and pelts of all sorts, with little to no decoration. Instead of Arianne though, Lady Bolton, the quiet wife of Roose Bolton, had joined them. The girl spent all her time diverting her eyes from whoever was speaking rather than speaking herself. A tedious creature that Catelyn would make sure would join her husband in the tents outside of the castle.

Catelyn looked out of the foggy window, they had come to a halt. She was glad, she didn't know how much longer her breasts could take the rickety floor of the gates that separated Riverrun from the rest of the Riverlands. There was a sharp tap on the back of the carriage and the door swung open.

Her father, Lord Hoster Tully, stood waiting for his daughters. "Thank the gods!" He cried out, pulling Catelyn from her seat into his arms.

"Father, we're alright," Catelyn reassured as he put her down and gave Lysa a hug as well.

"When Brynden wrote to me, he made it seem as if you had been killed."

"They weren't targetted," Brandon pointed out from behind her father.

Hoster nodded in agreement. He looked to Lyanna, sending her a small smile. "Just as beautiful as your mother was."

 _Liar._ Lyanna thought, internally shaking her head at the sweet lord. She clambered out of the carriage in front of Roose Bolton's wife and curtseyed to Hoster. "My Lord, thank you for your exceptional kindness."

"Well I couldn't leave my son-in-law to be rotting under the sun, could I? Your father would have my head," he smiled once more, grasping Lyanna's hands. "We will find your sister. As your brother said, it was a targetted attack. She's probably with another family, safe and sound." Lyanna didn't know how to respond to the Lord without bursting into tears, she merely nodded her head. Hoster seemed to understand and mentioned for the handmaidens that stood behind him to lead Lyanna and Lady Bolton to their rooms.

Once they had disappeared into the castle, Catelyn looked to her father. "Lady Bolton is to stay with her husband, outside."

"Is she not her companion?" Hoster responded, frowning at his daughter.

"No. Outside." And with that, Catelyn had strode off to retire to her own room, Lysa following closely behind her.

Brandon, though wanted to laugh, could not bring himself to enjoy even the small exchange with Catelyn and Hoster. It reminded him too much of Arianne and his own father and their endless arguments which usually ended in his father's defeat and Arianne walking away just as Catelyn had done so.

"Daughters," Hoster sighed patting Brandon's shoulder. "I hope you have the pleasure one day."

"Indeed," Brandon smiled back.

"Now, what you wrote to me is what you are sure of? If so, there is nothing we are able to do."

...

 **L** yanna looked down from her window at the Tumlestone river leading to the Water Gate, which was rusted at the bottom and shining silver at the top. Many boats were tied within it, secured by iron rings on the walls. And near it, Sept of Riverrun, which was a seven-sided sandstone building amongst a garden. She could not help but keep remember her sister and Robert, their faces replaying in her mind over and over again. She had thought endlessly as well, about the dinner, and how Catelyn and Lysa Tully seemed so easily accepting of watching so much death around them. The sights of dead bodies and blood refusing to leave Lyanna alone. Now she understood her fathers protests on her boyish behaviours.

 _What was I thinking? A knight._ She thought, huffing to herself.  _A knight who cannot even handle the smell of blood. The sight of dead men._

She had to admit, however, though she had been worried about her sister, once Brandon had informed her of where he suspected she may have been she turned her worries to Robert. He would only be a day or two ride from Riverrun by now, leading rest of the Northern party to Riverrun, with Ned, slowly so they would arrive in time for the wedding and Lord Hoster's food reserves would not be wasted.

_"I will meet your father, finally," Robert pointed out as he helped Lyanna onto the carriage._

_"He will adore you. Keep the drinking and swearing to a minimal and everything should be alright," she responded letting out a small laugh.  
_

_"Now's not the best time to be laughing Lyanna. Your sister is lost," he whispered shaking his head._

_Lyanna sighed. Her vow of secrecy to Brandon prevented her from telling Robert that she was probably in safe hands. So instead she nodded her head and gave Robert a kiss on the cheek. "Until next time."_

_"Until next time."_

Her memory was cut short by a knock on the door. "It's open," Lyanna called, not wanting to leave her seat by the window.

Lysa Tully walked in, hand in hand with Petyr Balish and smiled to Lyanna. "We wanted to show you around the castle. It's not good for a Lady to be locked away in her tower for too long my Lady."

Lyanna groaned silently, turning around to face the window and then to look at Lysa and Petyr. "The view from here is beautiful, I wouldn't want to leave it."

"Nonsense," Petyr piped. His boyish voice forcing Lyanna to stifle a laugh. "We can show you the Minisa garden, Lord Hoster had it made especially for his late wife. And the weirwood tree, we know you Northerner's are a ... traditional bunch."

Lyanna stood from her seat, seeing her attempts would be futile. "I guess getting to know my sister-in-law and the man who is in love with my brother's bride will keep me occupied long enough," she said smiling. Lysa and Petyr looked after the young Stark girl, gawking at her response.

...

 **"W** here is he!?" The shouts of Rickard Stark in the courtyard could be heard from Hoster's study. Brandon stood from his seat by the fireplace and raced to the small window by the edge of the room and looked down at the entrance of the castle.

Rickard Stark, in all his might, was still on his horse and shouting to those below him. He jumped from his horse, handed the reigns to one of his men and bellowed to one of the footmen to lead him to Brandon.

"Oh my dear boy, you must know at this point I cannot come between a father and son, even if he is to be my blood soon," Hoster said looking to Brandon worryingly. Be it his home or not, Hoster knew that upsetting Rickard, a man far taller, stronger and hot-headed as he was, would be a mistake.

"I understand L-"

"Brandon Stark you foul boy!" It was too late, Rickard had already lunged for Brandon and there was nothing the Hoster could do but watch on.

"My Lord Stark, please refrain yourself!" Hoster cried out.

His attempts, however, were futile, Rickard had already done the damage and stood up from his position with a sigh. Brandon, on the floor under him, covered his left eye with one hand and touched his lip with the other.

"Forgive me, Lord Tully, some lessons must be taught in a haste," Rickard muttered looking to Brandon.

Hoster nodded his head and mentioned for Rickard to sit down in the seat adjacent to his own. "I'm sure we can ... fix whatever damage has been done here. Brandon thinks he knows of your daughters' whereabouts."

"Brandon  _thinks_ he knows," Rickard scoffed shaking his head. "Seat yourself boy and tell me what in gods name happened at this Tourney."

"Father," Brandon sighed standing in front of his father. "You cannot blame anyone for this other than yourself or Arianne. She said that she wrote to you, letting you know of the marriage-"

"Marriage!?" Rickard shouted, standing from his seat.

Brandon ignored his father's theatrics. "She also said that the King had written to you himself, proposing that Rhaegar wed Arianne."

"I swear to all the gods that I hear of this match only now," Rickard said. Looking to both Hoster and Brandon invalidation, to which they both nodded believing him. "Lilla had spoken of a scandal, Arianne having one too many men after her, word of the Prince and her going around Harrenhal. I only took that as mere gossip. A fresh face, someone new to bring down."

Brandon nodded, understanding, his hand was still covering his eye. "I am almost certain that they are going to Kingslanding, they must have arrived by now. It took us a month to travel here, and we delayed. I presume that they will delay as well, travel slowly, visit villages and farms on their way home. Though the King, I know will want to speed their travels. They were betrayed at Harrenahl. Lord Whent has a great wrath coming to him. The King was injured on the night. The handmaiden of Arianne told her she was to leave to a hearing. A lie many were told I'm sure, the Dornish Princess, the Queen and Arianne were not present during the night. The lady in waiting to the Princess as well was not present," Brandon rambled, wanting to tell his father every small detail of the night.

"Who was being targetted?" Rickard asked.

"The Dornish and the Targaryens. Everyone else was just caught in the crossfire." Brandon responded.

"Ned and Lyanna?"

"Lyanna's resting now, Ned is with the rest of the party, they'll be here in time for the wedding."

"You may leave us now," Rickard nodded pointing to the door behind him. Brandon stood and leave the room silently.

"I don't like how this looks Rickard," Hoster honestly whispered. Entwining both his hands in front of him and resting them on his lap.

"Aye. Prepare your men, yourself and your castle for war Hoster. We have a very uncertain King as our leader."

* * *

** Crownlands - Kingsroad **

**A** rianne woke to the sound of heavy rain and a silent carriage. Once she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she saw the Queen, Princess and Ashara Dayne asleep; their breaths almost synched as when one inhaled another would exhale. Sighing she played with the dirty ends of her sleeve. If only she had kept her foolish hands to her self. Her father was right. One wrong move and she had sealed her fate. Not that she was angered by the fate of marrying the future King, no she could not complain about that. She was sure that the more that she spent time with Rhaegar, the more she had fallen in love with him. Though her perception of love was not one that was cemented, she had an idea of it.

Looking out of the carriage window and onto the murky ground underneath it, Arianne wondered if her family had received any of the letters she had sent in the past month. Apologies to her siblings for leaving without notice, to her father of how much she had already missed him and how excited she was to be reunited. To Lilian, who had not sent a letter since her first, asking after her health and if she would be coming to Kingslanding if the wedding was to be made public.

She thought back to the first night in her tent. Rhaegar had ridden beside their carriage for three days saying that his fathers' demands for a faster journey were wearing him down.

_"How long do we have?" Arianne asked, sitting at the table that had been propped up in the middle of the room for her meals. She wanted to spend as long as she could with the Prince before he had to return to his formal tent with Elia. Their engagement was one that was still very much kept secret between the royal family._

_"A month, at the latest. It takes a lot to get a party of this size through the Kingsroad," he responded, unbuttoning his leather jacket._

_Arianne could not help but admire the many rings that adorned his fingers, something she would never grow tired of with Rhaegar._

_Biting her lip she looked away from him and he looked towards her. "What is it? Why the long face dear bride?" He smirked reaching over to grab her hand._

_"I do beg pardon if this question offends you but did you see my brothers and sister? Are they alright?" She asked, her stomach fluttering as he sighed._

_Rhaegar looked at her apologetically. "I had no chance to see them, I'm sorry. I can bring you ink and scrolls to write to Harrenhal-"_

_"You think Brandon would stay there after what happened. They're probably on their way to Riverrun, or home by now." She said._

_"I'll let the servants know to bring it to you first thing in the morning. Once you're done, give them to me and I will have the Maester send them, alright?"_

_"Okay," she smiled back nodding her head. "Have you checked on Elia? Or Oberyn? She mentioned that many Dornishmen were killed during the attack-"_

_Before she could continue, however, he cut her off. "The Prince refuses to speak to me and Elia will soon be my ex-wife, I doubt she wants anything to do with me."_

_"Ex-wife? But.."_

_Rhaegar let out a laugh. "How did you think this was going to work my sweetling? I can't have two wives. Aegon has the Dornish throne and our son-" he smirked placing his hand on her stomach "-will have the Iron Throne."_

Arianne also knew what the princess had thought of her as of late. She had sent many distasteful glances her way when she would converse with Rhaegar. It had seemed that he had placed his efforts in talking to his new bride to be, rather than his wife. Coming to her as soon as the party stopped, spending nights in her tent and asking for breakfast and dinner to be brought to them rather than eating with the rest of the family. She wondered if that was what her life in Kingslanding would be like. She couldn't deny that his company was amazing, but if she would be barred from seeing the public for so long, she didn't know if she could handle that.

Though the young girl understood why Elia must have been cold to her, having many of your men killed must have hurt her and to find the woman who was to marry her husband would be joining her in her home must have been irritating for the Princess.

_"Caged bird," Elia would call her. Whispering to Ashara as Rhaegar taught the young girl how to bring down a tent._

_"No," Oberyn muttered, standing behind his sister, arms crossed over his chest and nostrils flaring. "Stupid bird. She wants to be here."_

_Ashara stifled a laugh, watching Arianne laugh along with Rhaegar as the tent fell to the floor. "Found out the hard way lover boy?" Her statement was not one welcomed by Oberyn who stared at her, turned around and returned to his own tent._

_"Don't make him anymore irritable than he already is," Elia said rolling her eyes at her brothers' childish behaviour. "He misses home, he misses father."_

_"We all miss home," Ashara replied shrugging her shoulders._

_"This has been our home for many years now, there is no time to dream."_

_"Isn't this what you've been waiting for though? A chance to leave. To see Dorne again, raise Rhaella and Aegon the proper way?"_

_"Say their names once more," Elia smiled to Ashara, missing her young children dearly._

_"Rhaella and Aegon?" Ashara responded a frown etched on her face._

_"Exactly. The moment they were named they stopped being mine and become theirs. Rhaella and Aegon. Names of dragons, not Dornishmen."'_

_"Elia. You almost killed yourself bringing those children to this world and you speak as if they are his own."_

_Elia huffed at Ashara. "Are we in the same world?" Ashara sighed, understanding partly her close friends' view._

_"What do you make of them then? Does the first wife approve of the match?" She teased, pointing towards Rhaegar, who had found himself following around his young betrothed the entire camp ride._

_"If she can give him a child, then I will be impressed. I do not care for it-" a lie, Elia cared much more than she led on, "as long as I have Arthur and my children I will be pleased." As long as Aegon sees the throne before any of her sons was what she truly thought.  
_

_"I think he intends to have more than one child with her," Ashara responded honestly. "I hope we are banished from court for I never want to see those red walls again."_

_"You know Ashara, nothing is stopping you from going back to Dorne."_

_"You honestly think I would leave you and Arthur here alone? With these savages? Look at what they have done to our countrymen. Your father's men Elia! The same who sailed with you when you came here and the same who stood by you every moment of the way. You cannot possibly be this light hearted over it all. At least Oberyn is mourning," Ashara said, looking distastefully towards Rhaegar._

_Elia glared at Ashara. "No more." And with that, she returned to her private tent, the very same one Rhaegar would return to that night._

"What has you frowning?" The Queen asked patting Arianne's knee.

"Your grace," Arianne muttered sitting up straight. "Sorry if I woke you."

Rhaella let out a small laugh. "They woke me up," she said mentioning to the loud men outside who had been chattering for some time. "Now tell me what has you frowning?"

Arianne looked at the sleeping Elia and then back to Rhaella, begging her not to say anything that could be used against her.

Rhaella nodded her head, understanding. "I see. A conversation we must keep on hold for now."

"Yes," Arianne smiled back. She could see Rhaella becoming her new mother figure in Kingslanding and she did not mind it in the slightest.

The carriage and chatter outside came to a halt. Arianne wondered why they had stopped. Before they were due to stop Rhaegar would always ride beside her and tell her the plans, reminding her that if she needed a break she only needed to tell him and he would make it happen.

"Why have we stopped?" She asked Rhaella. The Queen herself was too busy looking out her own window to respond. Arianne pressed her forehead against the window. Men were holding flags with the Martell and Targaryen sigils, the only one missing was her house.

 _But then again, a bastard was never officially acknowledged at a royal procession._ Arianne reminded herself.

"We're almost there, don't worry yourself," Rhaella smiled looking at Arianne as she watched the passing village houses through her window.

People had come out of their homes to wave and cheer the King and family along, many banging their hands on the carriages and screaming out for their King.

"They sound happy," Arianne smiled waving back at them.

"They want their lives," Rhaealla truthfully responded back.  _If she is to be one of us, she might as well know the full truths._

_..._


	15. The Aftermath

**THE AFTERMATH**

**Crownlands - Kingslanding:**

**A** rianne now understood the distaste that many had for Kingslanding. The smell that had followed them from miles beyond the walls seemed to grow more unbearable as the party maneuvered through the Kingsroad.

"My lady, you might want to sit back down," a Kingsguard said to her. His head was lowered slightly to seem less intimidating to her.

"I can handle the smell, I want to see the city that's all," Arianne smiled back at him.

Rhaella tapped her shoulder and nodded her head. "He's right. You might not like what you see next."

_How could I refuse the advice of a Queen?_ Arianne thought. She gave a soft smile to the guard and put her head back into the carriage, but kept the small decorated window open. Silence fell on the carriage once more. Arianne was sure that Elia and Ashara had taken it upon themselves to  _sleep_ deeply throughout the arrival to Kings Landing. Neither of them had woken from their deep slumber, even though the shouting of the villagers nor the soldiers asking them to stay back. Arianne found it hard to believe anyone could sleep through that.

"No one told you it would smell so bad, I presume?" Rhaella laughed softly.

Arianne let out a snort. "Some mentioned it." She looked out of the window once more and still couldn't see much. Though, it was obvious that both the Queen and Kingsguard had a reason to tell her to close the window for she could hear the hustle and bustle of a small village. This one, like the other villages, seemed to be rife with the poor.

Arianne noticed how those who had come to greet them looked as if they hadn't eaten in days and washed in months. She clicked her tongue at the soldier who kept covering her view and craned her neck to get a better view.

_What would the common people think of a bastard travelling with a Queen?_ She thought to herself, laughing at the idea.  _Would they even care?_

And the same thoughts that had been running through her mind came back to her. _When would the others arrive? Was Brandon married by now? Was Lyanna dreading every moment she spent with Robert?_ How she wished she had spent just one more moment with her siblings. Arianne didn't think she would miss her siblings as much as she did, but she did. What would have happened when they eventually would have been separated? It would've just been her, Brandon and Ned at Winterfell. Soon enough, Ned would've been married off and so would she. Arianne was coming to the conclusion that she liked dreaming about leaving Winterfell better than she liked  _actually_ leaving Winterfell.

Rhaella tapped her shoulder to wake her from her trance. "There is your new home, The Red Keep. "

Arianne felt her throat hitch in her throat. The gates of the city were slowing opening and the Kingsguard who was blocking her view had moved so she was able to see clearly once more. It was nothing like she had imagined. The city was big, too big almost, and seemed as if it never slept. Yelling from different markets seeped its way through the carriage in a mumble. The Kingsguards and horses seemed to grow restless outside, shouting at the passersby to move in language Arianne saw unnecessary. Arianne guessed that the slow pace and heat was making them agitated, and she could see why the armour looked as if it was sizzling underneath the sun. She looked out of the window and saw exactly why they had slowed down, people had begun queuing up on the left and right side of the road, waving and screaming to them.

"All these people came to see you?" She asked, turning to Rhaella.

Rhaella laughed gently. "No, they came to get their hands on anything that falls off the party. And of course, to see Rhaegar, he  _is_ their shining Prince after all."

"Falls off the party?" Arianne asked. Rhaella nodded her head and directed Arianne to look outside of the window once more. Children were following their carriage hurridly. "I don't see anything."

"Look down a little more," Rhaella said, moving her delicate hand and pushing Arianne's head slowly downwards. A girl, no older than five, dressed in a what was once white dress, held a small knife close to her leg, toyed with a small decoration on the carriage and floated back into the crowd. "I wish they knew Areys has the carriages made of artificial crystals and gold, would save them a lot of time and a lot of effort."

"Is that why the Kingsguard just let them through," Arianne pondered.

Rhaella scoffed. "The Kingsguard step in when our lives in danger, not our jewels. I mean, technically still own them."

Arianne frowned, still looking at the passing children who took their pick on the  _jewels._ Another Kingsguard covered her view and she rolled her eyes. Just as she opened the window it was slammed shut from outside. "Do you think that your guards are little...overprotective." Arianne scoffed, turning to look at Rhaella.

Rhaella raised a brow and shrugged. "It's what they're paid for. Besides, my guards have some respect, Rhaegar doesn't."

Arianne turned back around to the window and let out a small smile. Rhaegar had bent forward and was smiling back at her. The same smile she saw ever so often and the same smile that refused to shake from her mind day in and day out. And by the chants of the crowd, she wasn't alone. She heard their screams, squeals and shouts of glee, some going as far as to profess their love for him in the second that they got as he passed them by.

"It seems I have more than one wife to displease," Arianne laughed, Rhaella laughing along with her.

"We arrived, have we?" Ashara piped, letting out a pitiful yawn and smiling to the two seated in front of her. Though she had no gurges to hold against the Queen for wanting to pamper the girl in affection, she had every right to hold a thousand grudges against Arianne.

Rhaella cleared her throat. "Yes, we're almost at the Keep."

"Great, maybe then we can discuss compensation and retaliation techniques for the Whent's? Seeing as your faithful allies men were so brutally killed," Ashara smiled, mimicking the laugh of Arianne.

Arianne looked at her lap ashamed. She thought it best not to discuss the happenings of the night, knowing that the Northern's were left unscathed, and didn't want to cause tension between the families. Ashara's spitefulness also brought back the anger she had been feeling for the majority of the trip. Rhaegar managing to get her spirits slightly up as they neared the city.

Rhaella looked at Ashara appalled at her comment. "Ashara Dayne, might I remind you that you are speaking to your Queen, not a sister. Refrain from any more comments once we enter the Keep if you wish to keep your life here a comfortable one."

Ashara's eyes seemed to glower at the Queen, their icy shade of purple flickering from Arianne to Rhaella. "Of course, your grace."

**The Red Keep - Kingslanding**

The castle gates lurched open as the party made their way into the courtyard. She hadn't even been inside of the castle and her breath had already been taken away. The small view that she did get, without Rhaegar obstructing it, was one of the greatest towers she had seen and it was looming over the cramped city. As it's name pointed out, it was red and boasted an air of extreme wealth and seclusion. Arianne knew that it would be very different from Winterfell, where it was almost vital for the Lord of the castle to know his workers. She wondered if the King even knew the names of those who dressed and undressed him.

The carriage stopped and she heard instructions shouted out. The door to the carriage was pulled open by a young boy who couldn't have been any older than her. His head was bowed low, but she could see that aside from the dirt and sweat, he was attractive. "Your gra-"

He was cut off though by Ser Jonothor Darry hitting him across the head, a man Arianne had grown used to seeing mistreat the servants that followed them on their journey. "You were told to open the door, not to speak boy."

"It's alright," Arianne said as she stepped down from the carriage and onto the dusty floor. "I'm sure he meant no harm." Ser Darry bowed his head, clenched his teeth, and backed away. Arianne moved aside for Ashara and Elia, not wanting to give Ashara one more reason to loathe her and looked down at the boy. "What's your name?" She asked him.

He looked up at her, his face contracted tightly and he looked almost as if he had stopped breathing. "Alexi, Lady Dayne."

Arianne bit her lip and nodded her head. "Well Alexi, my name is Arianne Sand. Though I understand descriptions are to blame for your fault. This is Lady Dayne." Arianne said, pointing out Ashara to the boy.

Ashara tutted and clung to the sleepy Elia's arm. "She introduces us to servants!" she whispered, steering her quickly to her room.

"She doesn't like me too much," Arianne sighed. "Anyway, I would like to employ you, Alexi. As my personal...well I'll think of something. I would like you, personally to bring my bags to my room. Ask Ser Darry to help you, if necessary."

"Yes, my lady," Alexi smiled rushing to speak with Ser Darry and inform him of his new status.

Rhaella tutted and shook her head. "I would rather our own men bring your trunks to your room."

"I'm sure they have more than enough to feed themselves," Arianne shrugged.

"Arianne, it's not a matter of money rathe-"

"Is my mother boring you with her political talk? If yes blink once, if no blink twice," Rhaegar snickered. He had taken off his armour and was dressed in his usual attire.

Arianne shook her head. "Of course not, her grace could never bore me. She was just teaching me a few life lessons is all."

Rhaegar groaned and rolled his eyes. "Am I about to be bored, my lady?"

"I was merely telling her that she can't just employ servants for roles they aren't assigned," Rhaella smiled, rolling her eyes back at her son.

"I don't see why she can't. They're employed to do what we ask of them either way, are they not?"

"When you put it like that, it seems dehumanizing."

"Spare me your liberal thoughts dove. But next time you do something like that, ask me first," Rhaegar pointed out.

Arianne looked up at him frowning. "Why?" She asked.

Rhaella sensed tension brewing and craned her neck, waiting impatiently for her maids and ladies-in-waiting to escort her back to her room. When she saw none of them she lifted a finger at particularly nothing, let out a small "ah" and walked away from them.

Rhaegar seemed taken aback. "Because I am to be your husband and you will need to ask me before you do things such as that."

Arianne blinked aimlessly and shook her head once. " _Need to ask you?_ "

Rhaegar looked around for a moment and then back down at her. "We will discuss this later when you're rested and comfortable."

"Rhaegar, I'm not sure I understand what you're asking me?" Arianne asked, ignoring his statement.

His face flushed red and he clicked his tongue. "That you be an obedient and respectful wife." And with that, he vanished off behind the large doors that led inside of the castle.

Arianne wasn't left on her own for too long though. Six girls surrounded her as soon as Rhaegar left and bowed their heads.

One with brunette hair and a stout figure stepped forward. "My lady, I am Lady Penelope Manwoody of Dorne, and here to help you adjust to life at the Red Keep. They is Nymella Toland and Alyse Ladybright," she said pointing to the two well-dressed girls out of the five behind her, "and we will be your temporary ladies in waiting until you have decided who you choose from a selection."

"A selection? I won't be able to invite any?" Arianne frowned.

Penelope shook her head and grimaced as she led her through the very same doors that Rhaegar had stormed out of. "I'm afraid not, my lady."

"But the Queen and Princess were given choices."

"I am only the messenger. I cannot give you reasons as to why. Now, we have drawn a bath for you in your room and have prepared a wardrobe I know will make you very happy. From what we've heard, you have a knack for dresses and we didn't want to let you down."

She was promptly led to her room, where Alexi stood waiting for her arrival. "My lady," he said bowing his head. "I did not know who you were, but when Ser Darry told me, I said to meself that I can't let you pay me. If you are to be my Queen then I will work for you for nothin'," he professed, holding his head up high.

Arianne blinked to him and so did the six girls behind her. "Uhm, I don't think the announcement's been made yet Alexi," she said raising her brows.

He looked behind her at the shocked girls and let out an "oh" and scurrying away.

"Queen?" Penelope piped smiling at Arianne.

Arianne looked at her uncomfortably. "Well, nothing is decided yet, and not until the King passes which I pray won't be for a long time."

Penelope sensed her discomfort, whispered something to Nymella and Alyse, who in turn whispered to the handmaidens who bowed and left. "On all the Gods and faiths, we would happily call Prince Rhaegar and the Prince Viserys our Kings."

"Prince Viserys?"

Penelope laughed leading her into the room where her trunks had been tucked away in a corner. "Well...your betrothed of course. I mean, the age gap is ridiculous but at least Prince Viserys won't be burdened with the shame of a baron as a wife." Nymella and Alyse nodded their head in agreement.

"Oh, you think..." Arianne laughed shaking her head. "No no, the King has  _proposed_ I marry Prine Rhaegar."

"What!? He's married!" Penelope cried out, letting go of Arianne's hand which she had been so affectionately touching not a moment ago.

"I've been reminded of that, thank you," Arianne said rolling her eyes and scanning the room. The conversation had made her forget to remember to take a proper look at it. Unlike her room at Winterfell, this one seemed to be begging to occupied. It was big, far too big for one person to comfortably sleep in it alone, and held an air of relaxation to it. With a lounge, vanity, four poster bed and eating table spaciously placed. She smiled to herself a little.

The outraged cries of Penelope brought her back from devouring the room with her eyes. "What will happen to Elia? And the young Prince?"

"I suppose I was just meant to reject the King? Have many done that here?" Arianne snapped. "Besides, nothing will happen to them. We will both be his wives."

The tallest girl of the group stepped forward to Arianne and clasped her hand. "You lucky bitch."

"Nymella!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ACTUAL INFORMATION NOT ME RAVING ABOUT FAMOUS PEOPLE**
> 
> Hello, this is a filler chapter, I know it's short but the longer version wouldn't update so I had to break it up. Expect the next one to be online by tomorrow. My internet is A FUCKING SHIT CUNT! Anyway, the confusion will be lifted (if there is any) tomorrow. Even I'm confused because I want to stay true to the times, the characters who were present, the events taking place, but also wanna fuck around and add in my own ideas so it's getting a little hard to remember everything. For those reading on Wattpad, I've unpublished it because it takes too long to update here and there so I'll be posting here full time. Also ya'll I got into uni XDDDDDDDD cannot wait to drown in fees.
> 
> Lots of love, xxx


	16. Blood Shower

**BLOOD SHOWER**

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

**N** ightfall in Riverrun and the castle was far from quiet. Hoster had pushed for supplies to be removed from their winter stock and preparation were underway for his first daughter's wedding. He knew that circumstances prevented him from showing his happiness outwardly, but he was proud of the match he had made. Having seen Brandon, the way he treated his daughter and the respect he held for his father, Hoster's heart was put to ease almost instantly.

A torch was lit on the castle walls, attracting the attention of Hoster who had been standing in front of the great hall doors and watching the servants work.

"Milord! It's Lady Whent and her daughter," Byron, one of his best guards yelled.

"Byron don't you dare open those gates to them," Hoster yelled back, feeling his heart speed up and clench his chest. Shella had caused him enough trouble already with her mentions of family and blood. Nor could he accept her into his home while the very angry Starks resided in it.

Byron turned back around, facing the front of the castle and waving his torch to Shella and Merida. Hoster heard faint shouts of disagreement from the other side and screams from either mother or daughter.

_ALways one for dramatics._

"Lord Tully, is everything alright?" Brandon asked rushing down from his room, robe tightly fastened around his waist and sword in hand.

It seemed Rickard had heard the screams as well for he was standing next to Hoster in the blink of an eye. "Put that godforsaken thing away, you idiot!" He grunted at Brandon.  _Still hostile._

Hoster scoffed and shook his head. "You wouldn't mind if I brought in Shella and Merida Whent would you? It's my obligation as their good family. Besides, I couldn't turn away a widow."

Brandon scoffed. "Of course it's not okay, what in the seven would you want them in here for? They tried to kill us al-"

"And now you have forgotten your faith as well as your respect for those of higher rank. Do what you think is best Hoster, this  _is_ after all your home. We can't tell you otherwise," Rickard said interrupting Brandon and probably preventing him from spitting out angry insults.

Hoster nodded his head and began striding to the gates. "Open the gates, let's see what they have to say this time."

The gates of Riverrun were opened, the ditch that had been filled with water and now been covered in mud, allowing Shella and Merida easy access into the castle.

The two seemed distraught, Shella holding the reigns of an agitated horse and Merida clinging tightly to the saddles. From what Brandon could remember, they hadn't changed from their clothes from the last joust. Something unusual for both mother and daughter as during the Tourney they took the habit of changing according to meal time. Merida was helped from the horse and clung to her mothers arm tightly.

"Lord Tully, thank you for your h-hospitality," Shella stuttered looking down at her feet.

"Shella, we know each other better than that," Hoster grimaced. "We'll talk in the morning. I'm sure we can find you each a room."

Shella shook her head. "We'd be better to share."

Hoster nodded his head. "Of course." He led Shella to the handmaiden's rooms to be escorted to their room. Before she left, however, he whispered, "your boys?"

Shella shook her head, her eyes welling as she did so. "It was the Frey's. Walter refused Merida's hand and they threatened us, so he agreed. We…well I was hoping for Prince Oberyn Martell but Walter would hear none of it. Everyone thinks it was us, and I don't know what will happen to my family now Hoster. My sons, they have all vanished, or we have not been told the truth of their whereabouts. Now my pure Merida must live with the thought of the man she loved slaughtering her father. You must believe Hoster, we had nothing against the Martell's or their Dornish allies. Or e-even the King. Walter loved him as a brother I know it. It wasn't our fault-"

"In the morning Shella. Take a bath, rest, change your clothes and eat some food. It's a wonder you survived on your own," Hoster pointed out. Shella nodded her head and walked off with her daughter.

Rickard cleared his throat. "We'll leave you to it, Hoster. Until morning." He gave Brandon one glare and marched up the stairs, with Brandon in tow.

_…_

**"W** hat do you think of this one Lyanna?" Catelyn mused, looking at the white dress that was presented to her. It was delicate and made for the summer, with flowers and beads showering it from neck to skirt.

Lyanna looked at the dress, and then to the three others laid on the bed frowning.  _They're the same thing._ She thought to herself. "Uhm, it's pretty?"

Catelyn let out a small laugh. "You've said that about every dress."

Lyanna sighed feeling her face turn hot. "I'm sorry, I was never good at this stuff. I would just wear a simple dress, the designs seem so delicate I wouldn't even be able to sit down without feeling like I would tear it to shreds."

Lysa scoffed.  _Too right you'd tear it._

Catelyn rolled her eyes at her sister. "Have you seen how Merida's doing Lysa?" Catelyn asked her, mentioning for her handmaiden to bring the next dress.

Lysa looked to her sister almost screaming for her to shut up through her eyes. "No, but I'm sure she's fine."

"The man she loved killed her father, I would say she's going through a list of many reasons to vanish into thin air right now," Lyanna honestly piped taking a sip of the tea in front of her.

"She didn't  _love_ Oberyn. Merida knows better than to fall in love with a man who has a reputation for destroying women's lives," Lysa snapped back.

Lyanna rolled her eyes.  _This is supposed to be my good sister?_ "Well, then I suppose the death of her father and the fact that the Frey's have taken siege of Harrenhal, her home, has her pretty shaken up."

Lysa clenched her jaw. "Obviously."

Their argument was cut short by Catelyn sighing with relief, however. She stood from her seat at the tea table and took the dress that her handmaiden was holding up. "This is perfect, thank you, Jenny." The handmaiden bowed and left the room.

"It's…blue?" Lysa chimed, looking distastefully at the dress.

"So?" Catelyn frowned. "Blue, red and white are our colours. Red makes me look pale and all the white dresses didn't catch my eye. So blue it is."

"It's beautiful Catelyn," Lyanna smiled. "Brandon will thank you for wearing a dress of both our houses, I'm sure of it. Besides, he won't be able to take his eyes off of you." Catelyn blushed and ran her hands down the dress. It had a silky feel to it, resembling a fish, and it shone silver at a certain angle.

"It will go beautifully with mother's set, don't you think Lysa?" Catelyn mused, closing her eyes and imagining what she would look like on the day. The earrings and necklace that her mother had made especially for Catelyn's wedding, the very same ones that as a little girl she would risk a spanking to sneak into her father's room and stare at them for what seemed to be hours. The earrings were long and had a large green diamond embedded in the heart, with small pearls dotted around them and smaller silver diamonds sprinkled across it. The necklace held a similar design, but was much simpler, yielding its opulence and forcing the onlooker to feel unable to look away from it with it's twinkling and mesmerising patterns. Catelyn had memorised both.

Lysa stood from her seat, said a quiet "if you wish it," and left the room in a huff.

"I hope I haven't offended her," Lyanna said sucking in air through her teeth.

Catelyn tutted and shook her head. "Lysa has always been one for...drama. It seems to follow her everywhere she goes."

Lyanna nodded her head, raising her brows. "Oh trust me I understand younger sisters very well."

"You must miss her. I didn't talk to her much, but she seemed kind," Catelyn noted. "Though truthfully...may I be truthful?"

"We are to be sisters," Lyanna shrugged.

"I did wonder why your father hadn't introduced her to society as a Stark, rather than a bastard."

Lyanna blinked, opened her mouth, blinked again and closed her mouth. "I honestly don't know." Catelyn nodded her head, understanding. "I suppose, he didn't want her to forget who she was. Besides, it seems people don't care about those things anymore."

"Brandon told me she was to marry Prince Rhaegar. All this time I thought it was Viserys she was getting kidnapped to marry. It must be hard being the first sister and getting married to a second brother-"

"While your bastard sister gets married to the Prince, soon to be King," Lyanna finished off. She shrugged her shoulders, "I have hated that she was always the one that got the most attention, and look at where it has gotten me. I am one sister down and about to be shipped out to Storms End to live out my days. I am not jealous of her anymore, nor do I envy her situation. I can only imagine what must be being done to her. I can only imagine how she must feel. She's never gone as far as the Godswood in Winterfell you know."

"I'm sure she'll be fine. If anything, the court will make her skin stronger. Give her some experience as to be a wife and a Queen."

"Sister-queen," Lyanna pointed out. The room fell silent as the topic died down. Lyanna looked to Catelyn, "did you say Brandon told you?"

Catelyn blushed and looked at her lap. "Well I showed him the gardens earlier on before my sister and Petyr so rudely interrupted, we talked a little about our families. He told me that you were a little bit of a wild child yourself. I wish my father let me go hunting with Edmure. Or at least, let me watch. I fear I would be a nuisance more than a help."

_"My father named it after my late mother, Minisa Whent," Catelyn said, fiddling with her hands behind her back._

_Brandon nodded his head. He had dressed in a tunic and casual trousers with his sword at his side and a direwolf pin at his breast. "So that is why Lady Shella and her daughter turned up here last night."_

_"They're here? I thought that they..." she started, unsure of how to end her sentence. She had no idea as to where they could've gone truthfully. Brandon didn't respond, silently following her as she led him around the delicate garden. "Whatever Lord Whent might have had planned, I know they had nothing to do with it."_

_"No, but it's a reminder that you can't trust many. Not even your liege lords."_

_"My lord?" Catelyn frowned. As far as she had seen the Northern party left unscathed._

_Brandon sighed, looked around as if searching for something and once he found it he led her to it. A wooden seat that he directed her towards, let her sit and followed. "I heard Lady Whent tell your father that the Frey's have set up at Harrenhal."_

_"Well, they are the closest ties to the castle as of now. Merida is marrying a third son," Catelyn pointed out._

_Brandon shook his head. "It doesn't seem right to me, that's all."_

_"It doesn't seem right to anyone. But if anything, at least Merida will be allowed to stay in her childhood home."_

_"I would loathe calling Harrenhal my childhood home. Seems more of a destitute battleground," he said grimacing._

_Catelyn laughed at his actions. "Besides, the Frey's wouldn't be able to hold it for too long. My father will have to give it to another unlucky family."_

_"I'm sure they'll think of something to profit from it."_

_"Even the Frey's couldn't make something out of completely nothing."_

_Brandon let out a laugh. "What would your dear Merida have to say about you offending her family to be?"_

_Catelyn scoffed and let her back hit the back of the wooden seat. "She would join in. The Frey's were her father's idea. I don't know why he didn't ask for a better-suited family."_

_"Well, he would have had the comfort of having his daughter closer."_

_Catelyn feigned shock. "Are you suggesting my father is sending me to the North to rid of me?"_

_"He might just be," Brandon smiled back. At least Catelyn was easing his mind and he appreciated the efforts she went to to make him feel welcome. "I only tease."_

_Catelyn bit her lip and looked down at her lap. "I hope they like me. And that I live up to your mother's expectations."_

_Brandon snorted, amused by her nervousness. "Benjen will probably join the Black by the time we get home, Ned will be betrothed and Lyanna, wild Lyanna, will be married and living in Storms End. It will only be you and I...and father at Winterfell I suppose. So you have nothing to fear."_

_"You are fond of your sisters?" Catelyn asked, admiring the love he showed for each sibling._

_"Very much. Lyanna used to hunt with us during the late winter. It took her most of it to convince father supplies were running low."_ _Catelyn let out a snort and quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and her heart beating quickly. "Did you just..snort?" Brandon asked, holding in his laughter._ _She looked at him almost begging with her eyes to stop teasing her. Brandon put both his hands up and pursed his lips. "The weather is lovely today isn't it?"_

_Catelyn softly hit his shoulder with her own. "You make me feel like a fool."_

_"Oh no dear wife, that was not what I intended," Brandon responded smiling foolishly at her._

"Oh that was only once, and it was at the end of winter. For rabbits, nothing too big. I didn't manage to catch any, but I felt like I ruled the world when we came home," Lyanna laughed, remembering how Arianne had stood waiting at the gates with a sack, startling Catelyn from her daydream and floating into her own memories of the not so distant past.

_"What's that for?" Lyanna whispered, tugging her sister away from Brandon and Benjen, who had been boasting of their kills and asking Lyanna to see hers._

_Arianne looked at her sister knowingly and opened the bag. It contained six rabbits, and by the smell, Lyanna guessed she had stolen them from the supply room. "Lyanna! You caught six rabbits!?" Arianne squealed, handing the sack to Lyanna and clapping her hands._

_"Six!? You were with me the whole time, I didn't see you catch anything," Brandon huffed trying to pull the sack form Lyanna's hands._

_Lyanna tugged it back. "Oh," she pouted. "Afraid your little sister beat you, my lord?"_

_"Give that here and let me count them, you two aren't the brightest candles to be lit are you now?" He glared, pulling it back._

_Arianne let out a gasp and pushed Brandon away. "Go and eat your little ducks, we're going to show father that Lyanna can hunt. Who knows, maybe one day she'll be apart of the hunting group."_

"She was my biggest follower," she said smiling half-heartedly.

Catelyn looked around her room as if looking for a new matter of subject. "Speaking of betrothals, have you hear what has happened at Storms End?" She smiled, sitting down in her chair and moving it closer to Lyanna's.

"No, I've never been one to know anything about anyone," Lyanna smiled back.

Catelyn let out a small gasp. "Stannis' wife has had another miscarriage. The third. And it is said, that she has run away. Not even her own mother and father know where to," Catelyn said, nodding her head at every detail.

Lyanna looked at her shocked. "What will he do now? I hope she's alright-"

"Never you mind that," Catelyn smirked tapping Lyanna's nose. "It's perfect don't you see?"

Lyanna looked at her confused. "What'sperfect? That Stannis will be depressed by the time I am living in Storms End?"

Catelyn shook her head. "You'll see. But it'll be perfect. No good sister of  _mine_ will be married to a second son, I just know it. Now shall we go see Merida? I know that wedding preparations might cheer her up. Especially Aunt Shella, she always loved planning our name days when we were younger."

Lyanna, in a cloud of confusion, was lifted from her seat and dragged out of the room.

…

 **"W** hat of it now? Brandon says he saw the Prince Oberyn Martell slay Lord Whent with his own two eyes," Rickard grumbled. It was their third meeting on the matter and he still could not fathom why they Frey's would commit such a crime. They would be marrying the first daughter, but perhaps the name wasn't what they wanted and instead land.  _But intentionally hurting the Martell's?_ Rickard thought. It made little to no sense to him.

"We let the King deal with it. It is not our fight to pick Rickard. We must move on forward. Our children will marry, we will become allies and then you will travel to Kingslanding for your daughter's wedding," Hoster sighed. The events of the dinner, though distressing, were not to be meddled with by anyone who wanted their head.

"I would not have minded you know. Had the King sent for my permission and allowed her to return home to be with her family for a time. Betrothals are not supposed to be acted upon so quickly. Besides, does he intend to have his marriage annulled for her? I do not know a thing about the Prince, other than that he is my good friend's son, our prince and  _handsome._ " Rickard scoffed seating himself on the various seats of the meeting area.

Hoster frowned. "Well, Lysa told me it was the King who suggested the marriage so I doubt the Prince  _intends_ on anything."

Rickard wanted to show the disgust that he felt. He knew exactly  _why_ Aerys would make such a match. As if the Dornish were not isolating enough. As if they didn't provide him with the protection he saught away from Westerosi noble families, he would use his daughter. Rickard had no doubt that Aerys had every intention of making the truth known as soon as was possible, and he knew as a diplomatic minded King driven by family purity, he would banish Princess Elia from Kingslanding along with her children. What cruel fate one night of goodbye's had brought onto the world.

"Is everything alright Rickard?" Hoster asked, clicking his fingers for his cup bearer to pour him a glass of wine.

"Just a fathers concern. I suppose they must all be let go sooner or later aye?"

_He found her in the ruins of the old stone towers, beating at the bodies of trees with a sword too heavy for her own good. "Ned won't be too happy when he sees what you've done to his sword will he now dove?" He chuckled. It was mid-winter, so her absence at dinner did not go unnoticed. It was far too cold to miss a good meal, and too cold to be outside hacking away at dead trees. She was only a girl of three and ten then._

_The precious roses and lilies that she had planted with Lilia had all be beaten at as well, lay all over the white snow. The delicate blue roses, however, had been left untouched in their own section. She had insisted on laying them, for she thought that the place was too gloomy without them._

_Rickard sighed. She was never one to not respond to his jokes or attempts. "Why did you leave the blue ones?" They reminded him of the blue dresses his elder daughter, Lyanna, preferred to wear. That was after much argument and threatening. Again, he was left to his own devices as she continued to throw the heavy sword down onto the tree. Arianne was using both her hands, letting out silent grunts as she did so. And when the sword would stick, she would mutter for a time, pull and then continue. "Is it because they are the hardest to grow? Or the rarest to find? I admit, they aren't...well weren't as beautiful as your pretty red roses."_

_Rickard knew that Arianne, his seemingly sweet Arianne, was prideful. And that the easier flowers were destroyed for a particular reason. For reasons that he knew to be connected to her vanity. Though Rickard wouldn't complain. The flower tending kept her busy, away from asking him questions about why everyone else had gone to the most recent feast and she hadn't. Though, he did notice that she enjoyed covering them with black furs from time to time, preventing the sun from giving the flowers their much-needed energy. Lilia had told him it was a sign that she liked abusing her power from time to time, showing the flower delicacy when she pleased and then a cruel ending when she pleased. A trait that Rickard wanted to sift out as quickly as possible._

_He grew tired of her childish behaviour and walked towards her. At his sudden closeness, Arianne turned around-more snapped- around and glared at her father. Her face was red, her eyes had become puffy and she seemed to be breathing so heavily that her chest couldn't keep up with her. "What's happened?" He asked, becoming angrier by the passing moment at whoever might have caused her discontent._

_"Why are my eyes purple?" She asked silently. Looking down at her feet, ashamed. "Why am I always announced last when guests come over, even though Benjen is the youngest? Papa, how can I be too high a rank to dine below the Lord's table and too low to be presented as a child of the Lord? Why does everyone else go everywhere with you, expect me? Are you ashamed of me?"_

_He looked at her, utterly incapable of answering her question. The answer was not one that would offend her, rather one that would anger her. How could he tell her?_

_The boasting voice of Lyanna came from behind him. "There you are! We were all beginning to get worried. Is everything alright?" She asked once more, frowning at the tension between them.  
_

_"Just fine," Arianne muttered, glaring at her father, throwing the sword to the floor and marching back into the courtyard grounds._

_Lyanna made her way to her father. "You really must start letting her out. It's truly odd how you coop her up her all the time father. She's even started writing to that Greyjoy boy for a while."_

_"Greyjoy boy!?" Rickard yelled. When had she met a Greyjoy?_

_Lyanna let out a small laugh. "I'm only joking. I doubt she knows much about the Greyjoys other than their words and sigil." She looked at the flowers on the floor. "She left the winter roses only?"_

_"Aye," he said, looking at the blue flowers that followed the breeze. "They'll be gone by spring, I suppose she wants to keep them for a little while longer."_

_"Not one of our lovely Maester turned crazy's false spring alarms?" she asked, hinting at her disapproval to her recent betrothal to Robert Baratheon. He wouldn't tell her, but Maester W_ _yllis had vowed to Rickard that he was the perfect match, and no other man would give her happiness and power as Robert Baratheon could._

_"No, no. I know it's almost over now. The snow falling is growing fainter day by day. Spring is on its way." He said, lightly touching the spatter of falling snow. "It's the first spring you'll remember." He smiled._

_Lyanna smiled back at him. "Springchild, as Old Nan says."_

_"Springchild indeed." Though it was he and Lyarra who started the name for her. Her habit of springing from chair to chair during meal times as a child brought on the perfect nickname._

Rickard decided it best to leave such thoughts for when he was alone. Thoughts that it had consumed him, he wouldn't be sat frozen in front of the man hosting his first son's wedding. "Speaking of your daughters," Rickard smiled pulling out a small box from his breast pocket. Hoster frowned as he did so. "A family heirloom, worn by all the Stark brides on their wedding nights." He said. Rickard opened the square box made of leather, carefully as not to maim the direwolf carved into it. He turned the lip towards Hoster and pulled it open. "A crown. Not the crown of our old Kings and Queens if that is what you mean to ask. Merely one made of ice from the long winter...well we like to believe it has some traces of it within the diamonds and crystals," Rickard noted.

"I think it best Brandon presents it to her on their wedding day. Do you not? A form of sentiment to ease her mind," Hoster said.

Rickard scoffed. "If I know my son, her mind has been eased long ago, Hoster. Long ago."

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

Rhaegar managed to return to his much-missed room without tearing down the castle. The heavy steps of Ser Lewyne Martell followed him.

"How did you find me so quickly Lewyne?" Rhaegar laughed, turning to the man he considered a close friend.

Lewyne let out a small cough and cleared his throat. "I waited by the hall doors my Prince," he responded.

Rhaegar nodded his head. "Anything interesting happen while we were away?" Lewyne stayed silent, not wanting to tell Rhaegar the truth. "Well?" Rhaegar asked once more beginning to walk briskly once more.

"The Dornish party, they're gone. Well, everyone except for the youngest Manwoody girl and a few other smaller families."

Rhaegar stopped abruptly. "Do you mean to tell me that there is no one in court? That they left without getting the permission of their own King?" Rhaegar asked, stopping in his tracks.

"Not everyone in a sense. Oberyn's mistresses and some families have stayed. And of course, Stannis is here, wifeless-"

"Wifeless?" Rhaegar frowned.

"His wife has vanished...disappeared."  _Another man's loss is another man's gain._ Rhaegar thought to himself. "He is here with his father, the Mooton's, Rowan's, Ryger's and Tarly's are all still present, though of course only the children. I overheard Ser Darry say that his longtime lover from Highgarden is arriving, so I presume the Tyrell's will make their arrival soon enough. And then...everyone in between I suppose, so the castle is not empty if that is what you fear my Prince. I doubt his grace would even know of the departure of the Dornish high lords," Lewyne said.

"Oh, he will notice alright," Rhaegar said, clicking his tongue in annoyance and worrying about the outcome for the families once his father had found out about their leave without ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, who did pass my lord?" Lewyne asked, ignoring Rhaegar's statement and trusting their friendship for an honest answer.

"If I were to give you names then I would need a while," Rhaegar responded. Though by the hurt look on Lewyne's face he reassured him, "no one you know too well. No first sons as I am aware of. No women, not many were present on the night actually."

"What was it like afterward?"

Rhaegar sighed, not wanting to remember the aftermath.

_"You planned this didn't you!?" Oberyn snarled as they were led to their rooms by Ser Barristan._

_Rhaegar glared towards Oberyn, their brotherly spats were one thing but this was a step too far. "And why would I want to do that? Killing my own lords?"_

_"Well pray to your shit gods that my people leave unscathed or I will personally bring a war to your doorstep."_

_"Was that a threat or an invitation?"_

_"You decide."_

"Let us just say, that Oberyn is longer pleased with me. But I'm sure he'll come around, once the truth is learned," RHaegar responded.

"The truth?"

"Who planned the attack of course. Now let us walk in silence, I have missed this castle's grandeur."

As the sun set, it left the marble floors shining brightly and hurting the eyes of those who dared look down on such a luxury. Opening the door to his room, he saw that Elia had already been waiting for him to return and was seated on their bed staring out of the open shutter slats. The light had left the room in a bundle of violet and orange, a relaxing colour that made Rhaegar thank the gods for returning him promptly. He wondered if the sun set and rise would be similar in Dragonstone, or if it would be as cold and gloomy as his mother had explained so many times.

Their room had been left untouched, with the caged birds singing softly at the sight of their owner and jumping up and down from their different swings as he moved closer to Elia. He had forgotten that they hadn't been alone when someone cleared their throat. "Wine, my Prince?" Rhaegar nodded his head as the dark wine was poured into the golden cup. Rhaegar would never grow tired of it. Dornish wine. Free of charge, courtesy of his good family.

"Have you seen my son yet?" He asked Elia.

She looked away from him scoffing. "Have you?" His silence answered her question. " _Our_ son is in good health if that was what you feared."

Rhaegar frowned. "Of course I fear for his health, he is  _my_ child."

"The child who isn't enough for you apparently."

"You cannot truthfully tell me you're jealous. Our love ran dry years ago Elia, you said so yourself," Rhaegar snapped, angry she was speaking to him so.

Elia'smouth was a gap. "Jealous? Oh, those compliments have stained your head Rhaegar, I could never be jealous of the next woman who has the displeasure of marrying you."

"Displeasure!?"

"You forced me to have your son and now you want to add onto that as if he was just dried out grapes on a hot day."

Rhaegar could not believe what he was hearing. Perhaps three months of silence had caused her to snap in an unruly way. "Our duty is to have children? What did you think was going to happen? You prance around the place as everyone bows to you and relishes in your excellence."

"No! I thought that I would be given at least the option of declining. You have a brother who can have his own children, in Dorne-"

"Oh, in Dorne, in Dorne, in Dorne," he mimicked scrunching his face in discontent. "Do not fret dearest wife, you will return to Dorne soon enough."

"You can't separate me from my son-"

"You can visit him for however many times you please, but I will raise him to be a ruler," Rhaegar felt his voice grow raise. He turned away from her, wanting to make sure he kept his temper under control.

Elia looked at him, disgusted. "You...you dare keep him away from me after I fought  _death_ to bring him into this world."

He clenched his jaw. "Do you want Aegon to ever see the Iron Throne?"

Elia shook her head. She had truly lost him. "Those prophecies have eaten your sense away. Those dreams of yours Rhaegar, those are what caused me to stop loving you. Young maid in armour changing to a young maid, waiting for you by a lake. Whispering your name and the names of fallen dragons-" she scoffed, "-three-headed beasts that were tamed only by their master."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You have willed your dream to reality Rhaegar. They are nothing but dreams and you have forced yourself to believe otherwise," she said shaking her head in disappointment. "And now you wish to cause the dethroning of a future King, your son, because of  _dream_ you had."

"I was not the one that proposed marriage-"

"Oh truly?" She blinked up at him and stood from the bed. "Then who did?"

"My father!" It seemed she had struck a nerve, for he had screamed it out. "Nor do I oppose it, but it is a betrothal Elia, nothing else. Let me fall in love with her as I have let you with Arthur. And as for our child, as our marriage will be annulled-" Elia felt her ears beginning to ring. Was he planning to just take it all away from her? As easily as he had given it? He continued on, but she wasn't listening. She already knew what it was he would say. Either return to Dorne with the children and Aegon would be cut off from the line of succession or return alone.

She kept repeating herself the words he would whisper to her constantly. The _dragon must have three heads._  She realised she must have been saying her thoughts out loud, for he was looking at her with pity.

"We were young once Elia, but not anymore."

"I am nine and ten, I am young Rhaegar. You were the one that took my youth from me." A short silence followed. "I suppose you saw this in your dreams. Saw Cersei and your mother jump up and down for joy at the thought of my disappearance. Saw the oh so young Arianne fall to her feet and praise you for ridding of the first wife."

"I was honest with you, she never appeared in my dreams."

"You see everything," she said bitterly. "But I know you leave the parts that are about me out."

"Almost," he agreed. "Elia please, believe me when I say this though. Having sister wives would be an insult to us all."

"Insult? Or your stupid gods won't you do it Rhaegar." She scoffed. "I always thought, if he takes a second wife it'll be Cersei. Or Ashara. Someone close to your blood. Not a bastard from Winterfell." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes in a deep trance.

"Why Ashara?"

"She has the blood of old-" she stopped herself. There was something that was being hidden from him, the fool.  _Old Valyria._ Elia knew that no one, not even a bastard, could contract purple eyes. Not from a whore or high born lady. They were reserved for those from dragons blood and dragons blood only.

"Old Valyria?" Rhaegar continued.

"Rhaegar...you fool." But he wasn't concentrating on her anymore, but the darkening sky outside. "What is it?" She asked him. He ignored her once more and made his way to the sheer curtains, moving them aside and stepping out onto the veranda.

"Look," he whispered, pointing to the sky. Elia smacked his hand down, she didn't need to be directed. The comet flashed through the sky and left a red streak behind it. It looked like the sky and begun bleeding. Elia covered her eyes as the flashes continued, showering the sky. Rhaegar however, looked calmly towards the comet.

"Rhaegar-" she said.  _  
_

But he was busy whispering the words of the prophecy, "when the red star bleeds-"

And as he continued to whisper repeatedly she shook her head. "May  _all_ the Gods be good to you Rhaegar. Each and every one of them."

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN IMPORTANT**
> 
> I have gotten a few PMs about Stannis being younger than Robert, but for this stories sake, I have made him older. Sista's don't worry I have a whole 46-page notebook dedicated to notes and chapter summaries of this fanfic. (I'm obsessed okay) The only thing is I read the book and noticed that they don't have mirrors or windows so let's say we pushed along technological advances in this as well hehe. Also, ALL chapters are henceforth updated and the story is in the correct order.
> 
> **NOT SO IMPORTANT**
> 
> Author from the 'cough cough' pther story 'cough sneeze asthma attack cough' my sotry ctrl v ctrl c has pmed me asking me to take down my story for copying. I'm screaming. It's now a joke to me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyways, let me know what ya'll think &&&&& i got accepted into uni to study a major in nursing. let the life saving begin hoes :P


	17. Foolish

**FOOLISH**

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

**T** he sun was setting, and Arianne could not help but admire the view of the sun as it was not obscured by clouds or grey skies. She had seen its glory travelling from Winterfell to Harrenhal and then at Harrenhal when it wanted to be seen but never so close and so bright during sun set. Her window offered her a perfect view of the city below, though she had to admit she was envious of those who held rooms with veranda's.

It seemed the return of the King spurred the city to celebrate. Though Nymella had whispered to her that it was more the Prince they celebrated for. She couldn't see  _exactly_ what was happening, but she got the idea of it.

"A city that never sleeps will one day weep," Alyse said. It was the first time that Arianne had heard her speak.

She turned to the girl who had been folding her clothes for some time now and frowned. "That's a cynical way to look at it."

Alyse shrugged, "if you are amazed by this stink hole, you should see Dorne."

"I'm sure I will one day. I hear it has flowers of all kinds."

"Flowers, wine, gold,  _men,_ we have all kinds of everything," Nymella scoffed, smiling to herself.

Penelope rolled her eyes, "you would know."

"There's nothing shameful in being proud of where you came from Penelope," Nymella said rolling her eyes.

Penelope rolled her eyes once more, put down the dress she was holding and ushered Alyse up. "We'll go and make sure the maids have your bath ready." She disappeared behind a door that Arianne didn't even know was in the room.

"Your private tea room for your private guests. It also has a bathing room inside of it," Nymella said before Arianne could ask any questions.

"It seems a little extravagant," Arianne said pursing her lips.

Nymella let out a snort. "This is the room reserved for  _special_ guests of the royal family. Wait until you see the room you will share with Rhaegar. Oh, Elia has not cherished that room enough." Arianne looked at her lap feeling her face heat up. At the sight of her discomfort, Nymella reassured her, "do not feel ashamed of being the second wife. It's quite common. Besides, we all knew that the love between Elia and Rhaegar was leaving them, if it hasn't already left them. Besides, the kingdoms will celebrate the thought of a wife who  _can_ extend the family."

"Even if you say those things to make me feel better, I'm afraid nothing will lift the guilt I feel for taking away Elia's life," Arianne honestly responded.

"You will both be his wives, she will just be the first wife, that's all."

There was a short silence as Arianne contemplated on asking her the next question. "Do you think he will love me as he loved her?"

Nymella sighed and sat down next to Arianne on the plush bed. Though they were similar in age, she felt she had more knowledge in the subject of love. "If you let him then he will."

"When he arrived, he said something that I did not quite understand nor like…he said that if I am to make decisions I am to ask him first."

Nymella shook her head. "You must understand, my lady. He has been educated to be the next King, gods be good, of Westeros. Though I'm sure it different in the North as it is in Dorne, future queens and brides to the Prince are usually seen as property of the crown. Technically it is  _right_ you ask his permission before doing anything drastic. I know it's not the most…enjoyable nor liberating thing to have to live with, but it's the way."

Arianne huffed, "it won't be  _the way_ if I have anything to say about it."

Nymella smiled, "I don't doubt it." She stood up and continued her task of delicately placing Arianne's minimal jewellery into the drawers of the vanity. "I knew you know," she piped.

"Knew what?" Arianne asked.

Nymella smirked and bit her bottom lip. "That you were Rhaegar's betrothed."

"I'm not his betrothed yet…"

"Not yet...but, you know when I was told he held a special female counterpart at the Tourney, I thought you were his mistress, not his betrothed. Though I should've known, he's not one to take mistresses or even whores." Her chattering seemed endless, she didn't even stop to draw a breath. "They said that at Harrenhal he would come to your room at night and you would disappear during the day. Oh and the idea of a Prince following your every move, sneaking away to your tent and protecting you in your carriage. Though perhaps the sight would have hurt Elia, after the great tragedy. But it's all very romantic, " Nymella smiled, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Arianne looked at the girl, her mouth open in shock. "Who told you that!?" Nymella looked down at her feet, unsure of how to answer her question. Arianne raised a brow and stood from the four-poster bed. "Who is spreading lies about me Nymella? I demand to know."

"It was Lady Ashara Dayne. When we were waiting for you to return she told us-well she told me about what happened at Harrenhal and the way back," at Arianne's sudden burst of anger Nymella backtracked, "only to help me know how to best tend to you that's all."

Arianne scoffed. "Of course, she did."

Nymella, in her talkative nature, didn't let the awkward silence stop her from continuing her gossiping ramble. "I hear Stannis Baratheon will be taking his father's role of Hand, the poor old man must be too tired to continue following after the King."

Arianne groaned and sat back down. "Gods be good to him, I doubt it's an easy job."

"No, it isn't. His father, I presume, is to become the _late_  Lord Baratheon. And with Stannis now a widow-"

"Widow?" Arianne frowned.

"His wife is said to have run away. There's no chance she's going back to gloom and doom Storms End unless she is dragged back," Nymella snorted. "So that will bring much joy to Tywin Lannister, no doubt. He has been looking for a husband for his daughter for years," she said.

"Why hasn't he been able to secure I wonder," Arianne questioned. "She's beautiful and comes with wealth and a name. Who wouldn't want that?"

"Apparently, well I say this with a lot of doubt, but apparently their mines are drying up. And with Tywin having rejected the Martell's many years ago no Dornish men will have her. Nor will the royal family, that's why Tywin left you know. Because the King absolutely refused to have his one and then only son married to a Lannister. He was waiting  _years_ for a girl, to continue the tradition. But the Queen did have a daughter, who died soon after she was born. I cannot be one to tell you of things I don't know too much on, it seems as if I am being unfaithful to my King and Queen." Nymella rambled, disallowing Arianne from cutting in at various moments.

"And he married his only heir to the closest Targaryen he could find," Arianne suggested.

"Of course, he did look for anyone with Targaryen ancestors in Essos. Sending Lord Steffon Baratheon to look for a girl deemed suitable, he couldn't find one of course. It had been rumoured though that if Lord Baratheon could fulfil the duty he would be named Hand of the King and Lord Tywin Lannister would be sent packing. But thankfully Daeron the second married Myriah Martell and his sister Daenerys married Moran Martell. Both political of course, Daeron to brush up what his ancestors couldn't do in a war. So, in a way, if the Martell Targaryen marriage alliances were to continue, Dorne would eventually be swayed to join the seven kingdoms."

Arianne looked at her astonished. "You've given this much thought."

Nymella blushed and shrugged her shoulders. "There isn't much to do around here."

"I suppose that leaves me to ask, why I was chosen to be his second wife?"

Nymella shrugged once more. "That I truly have no information on." Her head snapped up to Arianne as she smiled. " _But_ I could find out for you."

Arianne smiled back at her. "Have I just hired my personal spy?"

The door slammed shut and Penelope marched through, her heeled shoes hitting the ground hard. "I knew I should've left Alyse, Nymella tends to...gossip. Sorry my lady," Penelope said her eyes sending daggers towards Nymella.

Nymella sent a glare back to Penelope. "You didn't mind, did you, my lady?"

Arianne hid a snort behind her hand. "Of course not, I enjoy her constant pestering."

Penelope huffed and held her head high. "Well, I've come to tell you that your bath is ready. It's best to come in while it's hot. And then it's best you head to bed. You have an early rise tomorrow; his grace will be returning the Keep to its normal schedule."

"Schedule?" Arianne frowned as Penelope ushered her to stand up.

"A nightgown please Nymella."

"Oh, of course, your grace," Nymella muttered, giving Penelope the nightgown that was spread out on a plush seat.

Penelope proceeded to undress Arianne, removing the minimal jewellery she had worn fearing that they would have an audience upon entering, which had not been the case, and her cotton dress. "A schedule. For announcements, a chance for the simple folk to come into the courtroom and ask his grace for special considerations, trials, and for...executions," she whispered the last word as she covered her in a silk robe.

"Are they often?" Arianne asked biting her lip.

"Yes. That's why they're on the schedule," Penelope said back, her lips forming a thin line.

Their grim conversation was cut short by Nymella letting out squeals of excitement and wonder. "It's raining red!" She to gaze out of the windows.

Penelope rolled her eyes as Arianne moved to see what she was talking about, though out of curiosity followed her. She scoffed towards Nymella. "It's a comet, you child."

Arianne turned to Nymella as if to ask  _what's wrong with her?_ To which Nyemlla shrugged back. "Sorry, we aren't all practising the art of becoming a Master." She scoffed back.

"What does it mean?" Arianne asked, looking at the red streak that stained the sky.

Penelope blinked towards her and turned away. "Come quickly now, your bath is getting cold. The comet will still be there come morning."

...

 **S** he was woken early the next morning, the curtains of her stained windows drawn back, and the fur covers that kept her warm at night were ripped from her body. Arianne blinked her eyes before fully opening them and let out a groan. She had been used to early wakes, but none  _this_ early.

"The King wishes to present you in court, my lady," Penelope quickly said. It seemed that even she hadn't gotten the chance to fully rise, for her hair was still in a tight knot at the top of her head, as opposed to the elaborate fashion she wore it in the day before.

"I thought you said he had a schedule?" Arianne frowned as she was pulled up from her bed and sat at her vanity.

Penelope nodded her head. "Yes. Usually, we don't know exactly what the schedule entails until the sun rises."

Arianne groaned once more as a brush was dragged through her hair violently. "Bottom to top please, we don't all have silky smooth hair."

"Sorry milady," the maid piped, following her instructions.

She watched in her vanity as Alyse and Penelope worked on finding her a suitable dress, how her breakfast was ushered in quickly on a tray and placed in front of her. How to two maids quickly made her bed neatly and scurried towards her. How they both searched through the drawers of the cabinet, pulled out oils and perfumes and began furiously spraying her with scents she hadn't known to have existed. Once they had finished showering her with perfume, they worked on placing dark substance on her eyes, crushed and dried strawberries mixed with oil on her lips and a necklace on her neck. They both quickly pulled out sharp looking objects from their apron pockets and began tampering with her nails, adding a clear liquid to them after giving them a suitable shape and then moisturizing her hands with oil.

"This is a bit much isn't it?" Arianne frowned. She had gotten used to one maid and all that Oliva did for her was dress her, do her hair and bathe hair.

"Welcome to the Red Keep," Penelope huffed as she helped Arianne from her seat and took of her night robe. "This one?" She asked, presenting her with a green dress. A dress she had never seen before or even knew she owned.

"That's not mine," Arianne pointed out, looking at the dress intently. It looked like one of Lilia's older dresses.

 _Lilia._ She thought to herself. The very same Lilia who had not answered any of the letters she had sent her while travelling from Harrenhal to Kingslanding.

"My lady, we really must hurry," Penelope urged shaking the dress in front of her.

Arianne shrugged her shoulders and held her hands above her head, the dress was lowered onto her and buttoned up at the back. She felt naked in it though. The silk, had not been like the silk at Winterfell, and moved like water. It covered her arms but allowed her necklace to be seen and dragged behind her.  _Obviously, it belonged to someone much taller._

Penelope noticed the fault. "You'll have dresses made soon enough." She said, handing her a soft shawl to go with it. Arianne was sat down once more, and her hair was quickly braided into a hairstyle she could not understand. Half of it was wrapped neatly at the middle of her head and the other half and been left with two braids at the side.

"Where's Nymella?" Arianne asked, noticing her favourite lady in waiting had not been present.

Penelope tutted. "She said you set her on a task that she could not return to you without fulfilling." Arianne frowned.  _Oh._ She thought to herself.  _She took that very seriously._ Penelope shrugged her shoulders as she watched the maids finish her hair by placing a hair piece at the top of it. She bent down and placed two jeweled sandals on the floor and Arianne quickly slipped them on.

"Now remember, the court doesn't know you're here or who you are. So whatever comments or looks may be sent your way, take them with pride. It is your position they are jealous of and their hateful words are only out of spite," Alyse smiled as Arianne stood up.

Arianne sighed and nodded her head. "How the gods have blessed me." She said smiling grimly.

"Graceful and hateful," Penelope whispered, more to herself than anyone else, as she opened the door and led them out of the room. Outside of her door stood two Kingsguard's, each clothed fully with their helmets tightly in place and right hands on their swords. Once she had walk out, they gave her respectful bows. "We're ready." Penelope announced. The shorter of the Kingsguard's led the way and Penelope ushered Arianne to follow him. Alyse and herself walking a few paces behind her and taller guard behind them.

The walk to the main hall was silent and long, the hallways had been empty. The only noise that could be heard either came from the waking birds outside, the heavy footsteps of the guards and the pitter patter made by the three ladies. Arianne didn't even have time to process her surroundings, to gaze outside to the gardens that circled the keep or even to look up at the candles and torches that had burnt through the night. After walking up what seemed to be a tedious number of steps set out in groups of three, they arrived at the large double doors.

The handles on the door were two black dragons, each knob intricate and different in its own special way. The Kingsguard in front of Arianne came to a halt, knocked on the doors and they were pulled open from inside.

Court had already begun, with Aerys sprawled across the Iron Throne. Arianne could not help but feel her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. She had concluded there would be many people there, but for the time of day it had been, not  _that_ many. They filled the floor, separated in two and allowing for a walkway to form between them. Above them, beside the skeletons of dragon's heads and limbs, stood more people. Arianne thought it best to keep her gazing at a minimal, she would get to see the Great Hall another time, properly, preferably when it was empty and didn't have the King seated at the head table. Though she did take a quick glance at the table before many had noticed her arrival, Elia had not been present. With only Rhaegar and the Queen stood at the King's side. And of course, a party of Kingsguard's protecting them. Behind them, Arianne had guessed to be the small counsel, a tall man with dark hair stood next to a shorter, much more plumper man who had not a hair on his head and a maester who seemed a little too young to be in practice. They almost looked like statues.

The many nobles that stood and sat hushed, clinging onto the King's every word, turned to see who had entered.

"Ah!" Aerys clapped, letting out gleeful cackles. "May I present to you all, the lovely Arianne Sand. My son's betrothed." Arianne curtseyed low and stood back up, holding her head high. Whispers overtook the room, and Arianne tried her hardest not to listen to any of them. Though the ones she did catch consisted of  _too young_ or  _barely walking_. Aerys cleared his throat and the room fell silent. "My son, Rhaegar's betrothed." He didn't make the same mistake of allowing them time to simper the new knowledge and instead continued, "I am sure you have heard of his Harrenhal love, so just imagine our little dove here as a younger, less baron Elia." The bald man approached the king carefully and whispered something in his ear.

"Come Arianne," Rhaella mused holding her hand out to her. Arianne turned to Penelope and Alyse, both however seemed to have stayed behind the large double doors. She silently shuffled up the steps and to the queen. "We must watch what we do and say very carefully now." She whispered into her ear.

"Is she not a wonder?" Aerys smiled, looking to Arianne. Arianne bowed her head respectfully and thanked him.

"Your grace, many questions will be asked by your enemies," the bald man stated, kneeling to be eye level with the king. Aerys looked at him wearily. "Where does she come from? Who are her parents? She is a bastard, you cannot allow a bastard to marry your heir."

"Varys," the king whispered, his next words inaudible. Varys' eyes widened at the king's words, he nodded his head, stood up, tide his hands together and shuffled back to his original position. "Shall we bring in the merchants?" The king continued court, oblivious to the crowds' unrest. Rhaella had not thought him stupid enough to do such a thing. Not without warning.  _Tywin Lannister, where are you when we need you?_  She thought to herself watching them silently.

Arianne could not help but wonder if she would have to be present everyday now at court, and if so, if it would be as tedious as this one proved to be. With various merchants coming in to beg the king of leniency when it came to paying taxes and fees on trades. Something the king seemed adamant on keeping a high price.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to see who was responsible for it. Rhaegar. He stood behind her smiling reassuringly, and when she was unaware snuck his hand onto hers. "They will adore you." He whispered to her.

Arianne did not dare to look at him, afraid the many eyes watching her would have yet another thing to speak ill of. "I highly doubt that," she whispered back.

"They are not displeased, if they were you would truly know," he pointed out. He had been right, they didn't seem to angry, confused was a better word. "I'll show you our private gardens after this."

Arianne smiled to herself softly. "We will finally cease our sneaking around I presume?"

She felt him let out a laugh behind her. "Obviously we won't have to. And then I can truly show my affections towards you." Arianne felt her face turn red. "I can truly let myself fall in love with you."

...

**Riverlands – Riverrun**

**"W** e haven't had a chance to talk, as a family should," Rickard Stark mumbled, looking to his three present children. Lyanna smiled at her father and nodded her head eagerly. He had already said his hellos and you've grown sentiments to Ned, who took the compliments wholeheartedly and puffed his chest out in confidence. The silent wolf was pleased about little many things, but this was one of them. A father's praise to a son was as rare as the sighting of the comet. They had been admiring the view before their father had interrupted them and called them to his room.

"Benjen has joined the watch," Ned piped. "I got a letter from Maester Aemon."

Rickard let out a chuckle. "I suppose he did not see fit to have a wife and holdfast."  _There wasn't much I could tempt him with that could keep him away._ He thought to himself.

"Well, I know that wedding preparations are going swimmingly," Lyanna smiled letting out a snort. She waited for her brothers and father to understand the pun. " _Swimmingly_? Because we're with the Tully's?" There was still no response. She rolled her eyes at their lack of sense of humour.

Rickard cleared his throat, unamused by his daughter's childish humour. "Brandon, Lord Tully and I thought it best you present Catelyn with the diadem. For young lover's sake."

"We aren't in love, I am simply fulfilling my duty as you taught me to," Brandon responded. Rickard nodded his head, understanding and picked up the case that held the precious heirloom, giving it to Brandon, who in turn jammed it into his coat pocket.

"Is everything alright father?" Lyanna asked, frowning at his gloom exterior.

Rickard nodded his head. "My children are leaving me, little by little. It saddens me is all."

"We'll get her back. They can't marry her without the approval of a father," Brandon snapped, angered that his father had given up hope.

Rickard scoffed. "Lord Tully has had word from Tywin Lannister, his children have been called to court. They haven't been able to return home."

"For what reason?" Lyanna asked.

Rickard sighed. "For what other reason? To keep the young and impressionable away from their families. The King believes everyone to be conspiring against him. Especially after the Blackfyre's."

Brandon let out a huff. "Why on earth would he want a bastard daughter as a wife for his heir father? I have given it much thought. Not even lowly lords take bastards as their wives, why a  _King_?" Brandon questioned.

"Brandon. Your wedding is in two nights, you ought to start thinking ahead, for your own sanity," Rickard said, fearful his son was becoming too smart, too quickly.

Brandon ignored him, standing from his seat. "Quite  _peculiar_ the timing of it all. It makes one think, why would father travel to Dorne? I mean, the Queen's Dornish friends would all have been piled high at the Red Keep. So what was in Dorne that was so interesting for you father?"

"Brandon," Rickard warned.

"Arianne was brought home, four moons after Benjen's birth was she not. Now, if maester Wyllis had taught me anything of the female body, it was that my wife, gods be good, would birth a child in a matter of nine moons after conceiving. Now, we all remember mother waddling around Winterfell with child, with Benjen and father being present. We also remember she had Benjen two moons after you left. Well, I remember, and so did Wyllis, according to his extensive documentation."

"You've been writing to Wyllis?" Ned asked, frowning at his brother's change of character.

"Brandon, watch yourself," Rickard warned once more.

Brandon ignored them both. "So, I presume the journey to and from Dorne is not an easy one father? Considering we got to Harrenhal in just under a moons time. So how did you manage to do it? A moon and a half travelling, finding a whore to impregnate, waiting for the whore to give birth, finding Lilia so conveniently in your tracks who happened to be looking for a job as a milkmaid yet also in desperate need of leaving the comfort of her homeland to come to the  _North_  and travelling back, all the while baby Arianne stayed a baby?" He asked, his face turning an ugly shade of red.

"I will hear not one more word from you Brandon, and that is a command," Rickard shouted, slamming his fist on the cup table.

"Why are you so defensive of her birthing grounds father?" Lyanna frowned, confused as to why he had gotten angry.

"I'm sure there's a possible logical reason-" Ned begun, only to be cut off by Brandon.

"Yes, the fact that we have been living with a liar!"

"Brandon, will you calm down?" Lyanna shouted, her voice levelling with Brandon's own.

Rickard pushed past Ned, standing in front of his eldest and ill-tempered son. "Listen here Brandon Stark-"

Brandon did not let him finish, allowing his quick tongue to let slip of what he had calculated to be true. "Why didn't you tell us that she was from the Free Cities father? Why weren't you honest with us? You could have kept her as your ward."

"I-what?" Rickard asked, his face twisting into one of confusion.

Brandon huffed in annoyance. "Well, why else would the King want her? She obviously carries the blood of old Valyria."

 _Oh,_ Rickard thought,  _thank the gods I have been blessed with a foolish son._

_..._

_**"** And you're certain that you heard Brandon Stark say that she was from the Free Cities?" Petyr Baelish whispered, looking intently at Lysa Tully._

_Lysa nodded her head quickly, "and his father didn't deny it."_

_His birds in Kingslanding would surely thank him for such useful information._

_..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Not edited, I'll come back and edit every chapter once the work is completed.*
> 
> Ooooooooo lala. I actually enjoyed wiritng this chapter and cannot wait to write more. I've done a lot of research and would like to point out I am not using years or correct age in the fanifc. It would've taken too long to wait for Arianne to grow up and by then Rhaegar would be a MILF lmao xxx Also what do you think of this new thing I'm doing? Introducing new chapters in a few lines at the end?
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reviewed in the last chapter and to HPuni101 for the uni wishes :)
> 
> Everyone saying don't kill them off KACHILL they aren't going anywhere for a long time. Rest your souls sistas :*
> 
> All the best, lots of love,
> 
> xxx


	18. Trust

**TRUST**

**Kingslanding – The Red Keep**

The gardens were just as she had imagined. She was sure that she had never seen the flowers that hung from trees, poked from bushes and lay alone. Purple azalea flowers lined the walkway, bundles of daisies, roses, forget-me-nots, gardenia and many other flowers she didn't have the knowledge of were planted in their own designated area. With status spurting water and ponds filled with strange creatures, Arianne could not help but ignore every word Rhaegar was saying to her and move her focus to look at the plants.

Rhaegar, having noticed that the attention wasn't on him anymore but rather the gardens smiled to himself. "Do you like it?" He asked, leaning down to whisper it in her ear and holding his hands behind his back.

Arianne smiled back at him. "It puts the garden at Winterfell to the greatest shame."  _And thank you for getting us out of Aerys' lecture on Dornish traitors._ Arianne thought to herself. Grateful that they were able to sneak away from the King's ramble of serpents under his nose waiting to strike him, as a punishment for the high families of Dorne leaving while the family were at Harrenhal.  _Who could blame them? After what happened, I doubt I would stay._

He chuckled. "Well, I cannot take any credit for it of course."

"I'm sure  _overseeing_ the planning was so tiresome for you your grace," she said rolling her eyes.

Rhaegar feigned hurt. "To my defence, I wasn't even born when these gardens were created."

"You mean they haven't been changed?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not that I remember."

"You don't visit the gardens much?" She asked him, wondering why anyone sane enough wouldn't make time in their life to visit such a sanctuary.

"No. We – Elia and I and the children used to live in Dragonstone. Until a year ago." Arianne let out a small,  _oh_  not knowing how to respond. "I moved them there because, as you have probably been told things get a little out of hand here. With my father and all…and then he thought I was starting a rebellion in quiet little Dragonstone and demanded we come back."

Arianne nodded her head in understanding. "I Hope I'm not invited to bear witness to anything I have been told." She said, a cold chill running down her spine at just the thought of attending an execution or watching a trial. Her father rarely spoke of his business, but Arianne knew that when he only permitted Brandon, Benjen and Ned to accompany him that it would mean the death of a man. Even Lyanna didn't fight her father's wishes when he told them so. "Do you miss it much?" She asked him.

Rhaegar hummed. "I can't say I miss the weather, but I miss being alone. Away from everyone."

Arianne could not help but feel differently. "As your future wife…"

"Yes, oh future wife?"

"It is my duty to remind you that running away to Dragonstone doesn't make things easier. You are a part of the problem if you refuse to solve it Rhaegar."

Rhaegar perked his brow. "Political I see." He led them to a secluded area where the view provided was one less with nature and more sandy steps and lemon trees. "I can only tell you what my business was in Dragonstone when you are my  _present_ wife."

She nodded her head in agreement. "My father did teach me a thing or two about running a holdfast, I would call it more tactical than political. Politics is reserved for liars and cheats."

"So, I am a liar and a cheat?" Rhaegar asked, smiling down at her. He could not help but wonder how much luck had truly struck him. Elia struggled to have witty conversations with him, often taking remarks he made as insults. Though, Rhaegar knew he couldn't compare a marriage out of duty and forced passion to one that he would enter gladly.

"Yes, you are," she responded truthfully. "You left for Dragonstone to sort out  _business_ away from your father and the council. You lied about your reasons and cheated to get permission." The look on his face suggested he didn't appreciate being called a liar nor a cheat. "I mean it in a good way. That is only if your business was in good spirit."

"Hmm," he huffed glaring at her and stopping in his tracks. "You're too smart for your own good." Arianne let out a laugh, one he wanted to lock away in his heart and replay whenever he felt unhappy and walked ahead of him. "Why are you walking away?" Arianne turned to him and they turned back around, following the pebbled footpath in front of her. Rhaegar turned back and understood. "They are just a safety measure."

Ser Jonothor Darry, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Lewyne Martell had been following them around the gardens since they left court and Arianne could not help but feel uneasy. The three had chosen to keep their helms off, with the permission of Rhaegar due to the heat, and Arianne could not help but feel their eyes and ears lingered on their conversation.

"I don't think Ser Darry likes me much," she whispered to him once he had walked to her.

Rhaegar let out a small smile and turned to Jonothor. "Could that be because you called him  _Ser Darry_ instead of Ser Jonothor. Or the fact that you had him carry your trunks to your room, a task that is much too low for such a man."

Arianne felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "I didn't know in which order their names went in. I can't be blamed for following what I was taught. And besides, poor Alexi would've broken his spine carrying anything heavier than a dinner plate!"

"I'm sure Jonothor won't be too hard on you anymore. He has a soft spot for you, you know. Besides, Jonothor is an esteemed member of the Kingsguard. I trust him with my life, therefore with yours too. Did you know that his brother, Ser Willem Darry was master-at-arms of the keep when I was a child?"

"No, I didn't know that. And it's not good to make assumptions about who's life you trust with who."

Rhaegar raised a brow and smiled. "Lewyne Martell is Elia and Oberyn's uncle. Also, the uncle of Prince Doran. He, along with Arthur, is my most trusted companion. And my little bird."

"Why are you telling me this? And what do you mean by little bird?" Arianne frowned, mocking his tone.

"Because you should know these things if you are to be my wife. And by little bird I mean he provides me with information I need. Everyone must have a little bird at Kingslanding, otherwise, you will stay unaware."

"Hmm, go on." She prodded interested to know more about his life.

"Barristan will lay his life for the crown, he saved my father from imprisonment at the Defiance of Dukendale. Something I  _know_ he regrets, but it is what earned him the title. Ser Oswell, as you can see…" He turned to look at the guard, who held his head low, "is mourning for his brothers. They may not have had the best attitudes, but they were knighted."

"I wonder who was behind it all, I may not be well  _informed,_ but it seemed a little out of the blue."

"When I find out anything, you will be the first to know," he smiled. "And Harlan Grandison, who was our best guard, has passed in his sleep some days ago. No doubt there will be a hunt for a fresh face now." There was a short silence as he thought what more to tell her, "And Arthur Dayne, the best swordsmen in the kingdom."

"Is he now? Or are you just talking him up, so I don't request men from Winterfell to guard me? Besides, did you beat him at a joust? Making it impossible for him to be the  _best_." Arianne poked.

"Well, you mentioned on the Kingsroad that the youngest brother would be taking the Black? Call him for service here, before he is sworn in. And he can be a Kingsguard. And, I asked Arthur to let me win, so I could present the most beautiful girl with her rightful honour."

Arianne let out a snort, "and in the process, only made her out to seem as a husband thief."

"I am offended, after how hard I fought for you?" He gasped.

"Nudging Ser Arthur to fall from his horse, is hardly fighting." She pointed out. "And besides, Benjen would slit his throat before becoming a Kingsguard…no offence." Rhaegar shrugged at her, indicating that it wasn't him she had offended. "Besides, it seems my letters aren't reaching anywhere I write." Rhaegar looked down to his feet and silently followed her. "Have you sent any letters?"

He shook his head. "Everyone I need is here."

Arianne turned to look behind her once more. "So, will I ever be given the honour of meeting your children and brother?

"Well my brother is only a babe, so there is nothing too interesting about him. Also, he is the only surviving child of my mother and father's apart from myself-"

"Surviving child?" Arianne frowned.

"Miscarriages and deaths before the babes hit their first birthday. Illnesses and the sort. So as a safety measure my father has Kingsguard's on watch duty day and night, not even my mother can be alone with him."

Arianne widened her eyes, feeling even more pity then she had for Rhaella. "What a life."

"Indeed. But my children, well when they aren't with their mother they are sleeping." Rhaegar responded, shrugging his shoulders.

Arianne sighed, "so I won't get to meet them until the wedding?"

"I don't think they will be here by then if I know Elia."

"What do you mean?" Arianne asked.

Rhaegar held his head low, worried that if he told her the truth she would see him in a different light. "I gave her an ultimatum. Either return to Dorne as the wife whose marriage I had annulled or she could take the children and Aegon be cut from the line of succession."

"How would you have the marriage annulled?" Arianne wondered. "You have obviously consummated your marriage."

Rhaegar snorted. "I don't think the High Septon would say no to a prince."

Arianne glared at him and stopped in her tracks. "Would you do that to me if you were asked to marry again?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I know I shouldn't have asked her to do such a thing, but I only had our best interests at heart."

"I heard you loved your children like no other father had done, but now you tell me you would have them sent away or taken away from their mother?"

Rhaegar sighed. "What else would you have me do hmm?" He whispered. Their conversation was one best kept for a place where no one was poking around. Where people who had not just been dismissed from court and were looking upon their Prince, trying their hardest to listen to even a snippet of their conversation. "I cannot have two wives, therefore, I cannot have two heirs. Do you understand?" She stayed silent as he pushed them to continue walking. "I love my children, and I know Aegon will be bitter for the crown that was promised to him but…but our children will be the greatest rulers that have graced the kingdom."

"You are delusional," Arianne said.

"My grandfather, Jaehaerys, thought my father to be the Prince that was promised. But he was wrong-,"

"And you are the promised Prince?" Arianne asked.

"No, I'm not. I thought it was Aegon, but I was wrong. Just as my grandfather was wrong. But our child  _will_ be. He will be born in Dragonstone where many great dragons were born, and he will be the greatest king granted to us by the gods. I would step aside from my own reign to watch him rule."

Arianne looked up at Rhaegar. Obviously, he had thought of the prophecy for longer than what was healthy and sane. "And you know this because…?"

He directed her chin upwards and pointed to the comet that still graced the sky. "Because the gods don't just do  _that_ for the fun of it."

"You are something else Prince Rhaegar, something else indeed." Arianne sighed, shaking her head.

Rhaegar smirked down at her and snuck his hand onto her own, holding it tightly. "You cannot deny, you are falling in love with me by the day. Just as I am."

"I didn't know you could fall in love with yourself?" Arianne said, her tone sharp and harsh.

"My love hurts me, her-,"

But his professions and poetic response were interrupted by Ser Arthur Dayne. He had come running after the two and his heavy armour had given away his presence, shaking and rattling as he approached them. "My prince," he huffed, wheezing for air.

"Take your time Arthur there is no rush."

"But there is. The king has called a small council meeting and he requests your presence."

Rhaegar laughed, taking his statement as a joke. When Arthur didn't laugh along though he froze. "Why?" He asked. Though he knew the question was futile, Arthur was merely the messenger. Rhaegar turned to Arianne, kissed her hand and then her forehead. "Ask Ser Jonothor to bring you to my room as the sun sets. We will have dinner together, alone, tonight."

Arianne nodded her head as he let go of her hand and walked away with Arthur, Lewyne and Oswell at their tails. She was not the only one watching him leave, as many others who had joined them in the gardens did too. Bowing as he walked past them and whispering small greetings. She turned to Jonothor and sent him a forced smile. "Well, it's just you and me Jon boy. Shall we walk around the gardens some more or would you like a break?" She asked, holding her hands behind her back.

Jonothor kept his gaze away from her and his hand at his sword. "My lady. I am here for your protection. What you choose to do, I follow."

"Very well," Arianne smiled. She realised she must have looked foolish standing in the pathway alone and turned back. "Take me to the Maester, please."

"I can't do that," Jonothor piped, still choosing to look away.

Arianne let out a laugh. "Why not?"

"Prince Rhaegar has given me strict instructions that I am not allowed to take you to the parapets, Maegor's Holdfast, the Dungeon's, the Sept or the Rookery. He says that the gardens, port, Maidenvault, Godswood-,"

She cleared her throat and Jonothor snapped his head down to her. She was much shorter than he was and small as well. If he pushed his index finger onto her forehead, Jonothor was sure she would topple over backwards. "I rebuke those instructions." She snapped.

Jonothor awkwardly looked around him. "You…cannot do that my lady."

"Why?"

"The Prince outranks you, I take his word before I do yours." Arianne huffed, turned away from Jonothor and began walking in a direction he was sure she didn't know of.

Their awkward silence was interrupted by Varys, who had pushed past Jonothor to sneak behind Arianne. "Lovely day for it." He mused.

Arianne jumped and turned to look at Varys. "Yes," she responded, quickening her pace to distance herself from him. She heard Jonothor quicken his own to keep up with her.

"I don't bite," Varys laughed.

"Sorry I don't think we have been introduced, Lord…?"

"Varys. I just wanted to speak to you before anyone else got their claws in, first taste best taste." He said smiling. The same smile that made Arianne shiver and want to run away. "I only joke. I came to tell you that if you need a helping hand with anything, I am at your service."

Arianne nodded her head in thanks. "I will make sure to keep it in mind."

"Lord Varys, don't you have a meeting to attend with his grace?" Jonothor asked, worried about his presence.

"Very good," he drawled, ignoring Jonothor. "Has anyone given you a tour of the Keep yet?" Arianne shook her head. "Well, how rude and inhospitable we have been to our future queen. Come, come I will show you around."

"I'm sure that can be saved for another time, I'm quite tired from my walk actually. So, I really must excuse myself-,"

"Nonsense," Varys perked taking her arm and wrapping it around his own as he pulled her inside, away from prying eyes, and up the first set of stone steps he saw. Jonathon's armour clanked loudly behind them. "You will love it here, I just know it. The feasts and celebrations will make you jealous of yourself!" Arianne sent him a small smile. Once they had walked up the first flight of stairs, Varys led her outside to the bridges of the Keep. Arianne stopped in her tracks as he pushed her to walk through a bridge that had no protection from the four-foot drop to the bottom.

She was pushed back by Jonothor, who blocked her from passing along with Varys. He didn't have to say anything for Varys to understand. "I was merely showing my lady what happens to traitors and disloyal companions of the king," Varys whispered to Jonothor.

Arianne stood on her toes to see what Jonothor was hiding from her, but his shoulders prevented her from seeing anything. She moved away from behind him and to the right, where small ovals were carved into the walls, allowing her to see what was being hidden from her.

Severed and burnt heads of nameless faces. She felt as if the small dinner she had the day before was coming up from her stomach and through her throat. She guessed that these were the parapets that Rhaegar wanted her away from. She had no right to be angry at him if he was shielding her from such sights. Arianne could not turn away, she couldn't stop looking at them. Those that were not burnt, were rotting, with holes in place of eyes and their skin turning a sickly green. They hadn't been brought down since the King had left.

Varys, who was now forced to walk across the dangerous bridge, stood from the other side, raised his voice and said. "Soon, all of Dorne will be decorating these spikes. Thanks to you."

Jonothor glared at Varys, angered by the little rat and his chaotic behaviour. "Lord Varys, might I remind you that it is your future Queen you have just insulted."

"No bastard will be a Queen of mine."

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

**C** atelyn could not believe that her wedding day had come so quickly. She felt it just yesterday she had met Brandon at the Tourney, and she couldn't help but feel that the little food she had eaten that morning was going to come out as soon as she had to words.

"Stop worrying so much," Shella sighed, stroking the young girl's arm.

Catelyn smiled at her, took her hand in her own and squeezed it. "Thank you for everything you have done. I'm afraid Lysa was too angry at me to even pretend to care and Lyanna though kind is useless with these things."

"Nonsense. Merida and I were glad of the distraction. But now, all I fear is your journey to Winterfell. It will be a long and lonely one. I don't know why Lord Brandon doesn't allow you to go to Storms End and Kingslanding with them," she sighed, feeling sorry for Catelyn.

Catelyn looked at her aunt as if to say  _really now_? "Do you think I would miss an opportunity to attend two weddings of my good-sisters? No. I will convince him to take me. I know I can."

"Did you enjoy your breakfast? I didn't know that the Northern's could be so  _kind_ when gifting," Shella smiled.

Catelyn let out a snort. "Pelts are not kind aunt."

Shella scoffed at her niece. "Once you hit the Northern barrier, you'll wish you had more. Many, many more."

Catelyn shrugged her shoulders, "I'll get used to it."

"Like you were going to get used to the awful green dress you were planning on wearing? Honestly, it's a miracle I was here to save you from embarrassment."

"Shella!" Catelyn gasped.

Shella shrugged, not knowing what it was she said wrong. "You are a virgin. White, cream or ivory are the  _only_ colours I can allow you to wear."

"I still can't believe that Lysa would take your mothers jewellery," Lyanna laughed, mocking their gossiping tones as she walked into the room.

Catelyn shook her head at Lyanna. "We don't know she took them."

"They vanished the night before your wedding, she took them," Lyanna responded.

"Well I still have Brandon's crown," Catelyn smiled.

"Diadem. Call it crown and it will look like the Starks are wanting back their titles," Shella reminded her.

Lyanna sent a flat smile her way, after a short silence, she asked."When do you plan on changing into your dress? Brandon's wedding breakfast has just ended."

"I should change now I suppose." And as if on cue, her maids began to ready the room for her. The cream coloured dress and was sprayed with freshwater pearls and displays of flowers was exchanged for her day wear, her shoes for comfortable white slippers. Her long red hair was twisted into an elaborate style, and her veil was put into place with the diadem that Brandon had gifted her with the night before.

"Well that was quick," Lyanna said, her eyes wide.

"You don't know how many times we've practised," she mumbled. Her maids nodding along with her.

Lyanna pursed her lips. "I say this as a sister...but you're a little bit obsessive."

"I know," Catelyn sighed biting her lip. She fiddled with her pearl necklace around her neck and began pacing the room.

"Well, your father said he'd come and fetch you once the guests were in the Sept and the Septon has almost finished saying the first prayers with Brandon. He said something about not wanting you to wait outside in the cold air too long," Lyanna quoted. "We should probably go an change too." She said, indicating to Shella that now was a good time to leave Catelyn alone.

"You will be fine. It's what comes after the wedding day that's scary," Shella teased, following Lyanna out of the room.

...

_"I want the heads of each and every surviving male of that house! Babe and all."_

_..._

_**"** And you're certain that you heard Brandon Stark say that she was from the Free Cities?" Petyr Baelish whispered, looking intently at Lysa Tully._

_Lysa nodded her head quickly, "and his father didn't deny it."_

_His birds in Kingslanding would surely thank him for such useful information._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Review responses** (the part I put in to be in this chapter with Petyr and Lysa was during the wedding, so I couldn't update it all, so sorry!)
> 
> This is in response to Guest, I won't be killing anybody just as yet so don't worry. To HPuni101, remember that she is actually Serene Dayne and King Aerys daughter and that Brandon figuring out where she is from is a show of his tendency to jump to conclusions. And to Anna.B, Rhaegar will NOT be leaving Arianne for Lyanna (although I know I shouldn't be giving any of this away I couldn't stop myself) and yes Ashara hating her has nothing to do with Arianne more that her best friend's life is about to be changed because of a girl who she doesn't think is good enough essentially for the role, also I'm working on changing my synopsis, I want to show her as the underdog sort of, if that makes sense. And yes Petyr is seeing bigger & better things for himself, with Catelyn leaving I don't think he has much to live for at Riverrun. I hope I showed that in this chapter.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think, and I'll be back with more soon. I'll be uploading the next chapter in a few hours, this one was too long to have a wedding in it. xx
> 
> Lots of love


	19. Deals Sealed

**DEALS SEALED**

**Riverlands – Riverrun**

**A** s Lyanna had told her, Hoster came to Catelyn as soon as he heard the Septon near the end of his prayer with Brandon.

"Are you ready my love?" Hoster whispered, knocking on Catelyn's door carefully.

Catelyn pulled the door open and smiled at her father. "I have been for some time now."

Hoster smiled back, taking her hand and patting it gently. "As I suspected. Come now, the Septon is almost finished with Brandon."

Catelyn, however, didn't leave her room as Hoster nudged her hand to follow him. "Do I look alright father?" She asked, biting her lip nervously.

"I cannot believe that you need reassurance from  _me_ of all people. You look like the most beautiful bride that was, has been and will ever be," he said, bending down to place a small kiss on her forehead.

Catelyn felt her cheeks flush at her father's compliment. She had practised many times in stopping herself from letting a tear or two out, but that didn't mean that a few didn't run down her cheeks before she hand even built up the willpower to refuse them. She wiped her eyes quickly as her father silently led her to the Sept. "What about Brandon?" She asked.

Hoster let out a laugh. "Between you and me, he is as pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf."

Brandon, who was sure that the Northern party had doubled since they had arrived, couldn't stop tapping his foot restlessly throughout the entire prayer. He didn't know he would feel this  _nervous_ doing something that he had prepared for since his birth, basically. Additionally, unlike his religion of simplicity, Catelyn's faith required hours of tedious prayers and rituals. Something he was willing to suffer through to be able to leave Riverrun as soon as possible and return home with his family neatly and swiftly.

When he walked into the Sept, Brandon had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn't still asleep. The Sept was a seven-sided sandstone building behind the Minisa gardens that he walked through not a few days ago. He still wasn't sure how he had missed such a creation. Inside the Sept were images of the Seven on marble and the ceiling was made entirely of glass, allowing a rainbow of light to fill the Sept.

The Septon ended his prayer with a mummer and as if on note, the double doors opened to allow Catelyn and her father inside. It was evident that Hoster had said some heartfelt words, for, behind her veil, Brandon could see Catelyn's cheeks gleaming red. It was as if everyone in the Sept had let out a breath they were all holding. Perhaps it was the fact that they were attending the heir to Winterfell's wedding, something many would not forget. Even those who watched on from the gallery of the Sept.

Brandon, who was stood between the Mother and Father in front of the Sept, took Catelyn's hand and helped her up the stairs. Hoster nodded to him and stood to her left. It took his whole being to keep from letting out a laugh of excitement. For all the times he had neglected her beauty and disallowed himself the love she was willing to offer, today she proved him wrong. Her dress, white and adorned with pearls flowed behind her. The Tully coat she wore hid the beauty of her body, but Brandon would still admire.

Catelyn, who held been practically dragged up the aisle by her father, smiled at Brandon as he took the veil that concealed her nervous face. He smiled back down at her, proud she had decided to neglect any jewellery but the diadem he had given her the night before. Though out of exaggeration she had not permitted him to see her and forced him to leave the box outside her room. She would have to thank him greatly for such a gift for it made up for the lack of jewellery she wore. He did not know if it was the day or the setting, but she seemed to shine. As if she were the sun, and if he looked away her light would still blind him. Catelyn beamed at him and whispered a small hello and they turned to the Septon.

As he continued to recite prayers from the holy text, the Seven-Pointed Star, Brandon could not help but flicker his eyes over to Catelyn occasionally. Every time he would, Catelyn would catch him staring and tut at him playfully.

The Septon lifted his hand over them and announced, "you may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Brandon untied her Tully robe and handed it to her father, proceeded to untie his own and covered her with the much larger heavier Stark coat. His father had told him not to show it on his face, but he wanted to boast to the entire Sept. The Septon nodded his head smiling. "We now stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one soul, now and forever." He instructed them to hold hands, Brandon allowing her to place her delicate hand on top of his larger ones. The Septon pulled a piece of cloth from his book, placed the book on a stand and began to tie a knot around their hands, joining them tightly. "Let it be known that Lord Brandon of House Stark and Lady Catelyn of House Tully are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who should seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." He unravelled the cloth and said, "look upon each other and say the words."

They both turned to each other, Brandon looking down and Catelyn looking up. Simultaneously they began to speak.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Strangers."

"I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days," Catelyn smiled, sure that his voice faded her own.

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days. With this kiss, I pledge my love."

And for the first ever time, the moment that she had been waiting for since she would walk and talk, Brandon pulled her close by the back of her neck and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. There were outbursts of glee as guests around the Sept applauded and cheered for the young couple. All but one guest, Petyr, who stood from the gallery and watched solemnly. Brandon, as if noticing one unhappy face staring down at them looked up at Petyr and sent an unruly glare at him. Petyr, in turn, brought his hands together once and then turned back around to leave the Sept before the happy couple did.

…

The wedding celebrations began as soon as the ceremony was finished, with Brandon and Catelyn leading the way to the Great Hall for the feast. It had been seat up, similar to the Sept, with purple flowers hanging from the ceilings. Dissimilar to the meals that they had in the hall during their stay and the feats at Harrenhal however, Riverrun's Great Hall now seemed much lighter.

It may have been because of the endless music that was playing, or the wine and ale that the servants hadn't stopped refilling or the way that Catelyn looked under the candlelight. Brandon did not mind however, his life, for the briefest moment, was perfect. He refused himself the luxury of thinking of his sister's predicament, his father's helplessness in the situation and how the Royal family would respond to Harrenhal.

"Will you be this intent on fading in and out of reality during our whole marriage?" Catelyn asked, clicking her fingers in front of Brandon's dazed eyes. Either the alcohol was too strong or Brandon had a tendency to flutter into his own world now and then, and Catelyn hoped it was the latter.

Brandon grabbed her wrist and gave her a playful smile. "You dare interrupt my daydream?"

"Depending on what it was about, I'm not sorry," she said, bringing her silver wine cup to her lips with her free hand.

Brandon smiled, looked around to make sure no one important had their eyes on them and brought her hand to his lips taking small bites here and there. "You shouldn't be." And he brought his head closer to her ear. "Just as I won't be tonight."

She felt her heart jump, almost as if it wanted to leave through her throat and never return. "You shouldn't say such things," she muttered feeling her face heat up.

"Why not?" Brandon frowned. "We are husband and wife, surely people cannot turn that into a negative."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Catelyn whispered looking down at Petyr, who was sat next to her sister and was looking intently at their table.

Petyr nudged Lysa and pointed his head to the high table, where Catelyn was seated next to Brandon and their fathers.

"What is it?" Lysa snapped, angry that he had interrupted her flirtatious conversation with a certain Tytos Blackwood.

Petyr shook his head at Lysa. "He's married?"

Lysa shrugged her shoulders. "If the Prince can have two wives, why can't Tytos?" she said, turning to take a glance at Tytos, who had started a conversation with another Lord. "Besides, I hear he is close friends with the Starks, maybe Catelyn and I won't be separated too long after all."

Petyr looked at Lysa as if waiting for her to realise what she had just said. "What?"

Lysa blinked back at him, realizing she had just let slip a secret most of the kingdom didn't even know yet. "What?"

"What?" Petyr blinked back. "What the seven hells did you just say?"

Lysa rolled her eyes. "It's not as if it's unusual, I don't know why you're being so dramatic. Can't we just be happy for Cat today and keep your fake schemes for another time."

Petyr, who was used to Lysa's outbursts of unkind words tutted at her and brought his hand to her hair. "Lysa. Why would I care about Cat when I have you right in front of me?" He queered.

Lysa sighed and placed her hand on Petyr's. "I'm sorry, it's been a stressful few days."

Petyr nodded his head. "For everyone I presume." He poured a glass of wine and slid it over to her. "Now are you going to let me in on this little secret of the Prince's?"

Lysa scoffed and rolled her eyes, taking a long swing of the wine. "No secret for long. He's getting married to that bastard. It could've been anyone. You know, Cersei swore that it would be her he would marry-," she let out a loud laugh, "jokes on her. She's been tossed for a bastard. Can you believe it? I would slit my own wrists."

Petyr looked at her as if to ask  _too much_? "Has a bastard from their bloodline been found? Finally, then?" Petyr asked.

Lysa nodded her head. "I heard Brandon say it yesterday. He found out that his 'bastard sister' was adopted from the Free Cities. I thought about it and thought she was one of the lost females from House Blackfyre you know, after the Ninepenny thing. But then I thought about it some more, how can she be Dornish and a Blackfyre. Impossible. So, I rounded up that she's probably just a whore's daughter who was lucky enough to be bedded by a man who held the trait of purple eyes. Much like the Dayne's," Lysa babbled. A trait that came with too much wine.

 _A blessing and a curse_ , Petyr thought to himself. He turned back to Lysa, who had already reattached herself in conversation with Tytos. "And you're  _certain_  that you heard  _Brandon Stark_  say she was from the _Free Cities_?" he asked her, stressing his words and looking to Lysa intently.

Lysa turned around and nodded her head quickly, "and his father didn't deny it."

Petyr bit his lip as he lifted his knife and began poking the pigeon pie that was on his plate. His birds in Kingslanding would surely thank him for such useful information. He might even get invited to court, a step up from following Hoster around all day and Lysa all night.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder tap him, turning around he saw Catelyn and Brandon looking down on him. "What are you scheming about?" Brandon asked, his tone hostile.

"A man cannot think alone?" Petyr responded, smiling at Brandon.

Brandon scoffed. "A  _boy_  cannot think alone, I'm sure you mean." Forcing Petyr to turn an ugly shade of red.

Catelyn glared at Brandon and turned back to Petyr. "We only came to speak to our guests and ask if they were happy. Please don't be too lonely tonight Petyr," Catelyn smiled patting his shoulder.

Petyr smiled back at her and placed a hand on Lysa's thigh. "I assure you, I will be far from it." Catelyn nodded her head uncomfortably as she continued greeting the guests that were lined up on his table. Many standing to congratulate her, many drunk and eager to meet the bride. Petyr looked up at Brandon once more. "Your dear sister couldn't join us tonight?" He mocked, pouting.

Brandon, ill-tempered and hot-headed as he was, grabbed Petyr by the collar of his neck and dragged him outside. To many, the sight would look as if the new husband of a Tully was putting a drunken Petyr to bed. Once they had stepped outside to the cool air, Brandon pushed Petyr up against the wall by his chest. "Say it once more, like the man you are."

Petyr held Brandon's hand by his own, trying to free himself. "You know me better Brandon Stark."

"Lord Brandon Stark, to you."

"Lord Petyr Baelish, to you."

Brandon let out a scoff, "you hold a farmhouse as a holdfast."

Petyr tilted his head, "I didn't know the Starks were ones for material discrimination."

Brandon let out an angry huff and pushed Petyr to the wall harder. "For the time that she is here, you stay away from Catelyn do you hear me?"

"She is already your wife, you have won," Petyr shrugged, unfazed by Brandon's anger.

"And you keep your tongue quiet about my sister, understood?"

"Which one? The bastard or the boy dressed as a lad-," before he could finish his sentence, however, Brandon had thrown his fist to his left eye. Petyr felt pain rush from cheek to his eye and then his vision lessen, as blood began to rush around it. He felt another punch, this time in his stomach, a small portion of the meal that he had eaten coming up and spilling onto the floor.

"If only you were as strong as your tongue," Brandon whispered letting go of Petyr and walking back into the Hall as if nothing had happened.

Petyr held his stomach tightly, thought about returning to the hall and calling Brandon out, but convinced himself to trudge to his room and wait for Lysa to come up once the celebrations were finished.

Brandon wiped his bruised hand on his tunic and made his way back to the high table, where Catelyn had been patiently waiting for him. "Is Petyr alright?" She asked, taking his hand in hers once he was seated. Brandon, not a liar by nature, looked to his knuckles as if waiting for her to figure out the events. Catelyn let go of his hand and glared at him.

"He pushed me too far," he mused, reaching for her hand, which she snatched away.

"He is my closest friend," she whispered back. "I know he can push your patience at times but really Brandon."

Brandon smiled at her. "You don't think they call me the Wild Wolf for the fun of it, do you?" Catelyn looked at him with fearful eyes, unsure what he was insinuating with that statement. Brandon let his hand lightly brush her cheek. "I would never hurt you."

"Stop being so touchy," Lyanna said from behind them swatting away Brandon's hand. "Congratulations again brother, and sister," she smiled giving them both a kiss on the cheek. Brandon had never seen his sister so kind, but he wouldn't complain about it anytime soon.

"Thank you, Lyanna, for everything you've done," Catelyn beamed.

"Yes congratulations, though I don't think there is much I can say I haven't already said," Rickard sighed from next to Brandon.

"Father we know you aren't exactly the…expressive type," Lyanna joked.

Rickard sent a be quiet child look to Lyanna. "Brandon has already shown me he has everything under control, what more can I say to him." He said, his voice rising as he spoke. The guests took that as their cue to quieten down. Rickard stood from his seat, "it's an honour to join our houses together Lord Hoster. But the knot cannot be officiated until the marriage is consummated, so with that said-," but his speech was interrupted by most of the Northern clan.

"To bed!" Jon Umber shouted, causing Lyanna to roll her eyes. His cries were followed by many others, who began to hit their cups on the table and demanding that Catelyn and Brandon stand.

 _Say no, say no, say no,_  Catelyn thought over and over in her head. But Brandon had just stood from his seat and helped Catelyn from her own.

"Your excitement both amazes and worries me Lord Umber," Brandon laughed, shouting over the crowd who in turn began laughing at Jon. "But there will be no bedding tonight." There were cries of protest, many sitting back down in disappointment. "I prefer to be the only one who sees my wife naked. And I'm sure we both want our dignity intact after tonight. You will know if the marriage was consummated in a few months, I suppose."

"Shut it and get in that room so we can go back to getting piss drunk!" Jon shouted, rolling his eyes at Brandon's formalities.

Brandon looked down at Catelyn and pulled her closer by the waist. "That I can  _definitely_  do."

_..._

**Kingslanding – The Red Keep:**

**T** he curtains to her room were drawn open and Arianne was pushed awake by Penelope.

"My lady, Prince Rhaegar has asked to have breakfast with you this morning. What should I tell him?" She whispered.

Arianne sat on her bed quickly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yes, say yes of course." She heard Nymella snicker from across the room. "What's so funny?"

"You're so eager to see him, that's all," Nymella shrugged.

Arianne rolled her eyes and pulled herself from the bed, dragging the soft sheets along with her to the vanity. "You wouldn't be?"

Nymella shook her head. "No. I guess it's different for you though." She responded. "Oh also, have you heard?"

Arianne waited for her to speak once more. "Usually after that Nymella, you reveal the big news."

"Your brother got married, a few days ago. News came from Riverrun," she responded. "I assumed you'd know." She began to ready a dress that she could change into quickly.

Arianne huffed. She knew she would be missing the wedding of her brother, an event she and he had both looked forward to for many years. "I wrote to him weeks ago!" She yelled, infuriated that her family had taken to not responding to her letters. "I cannot help that I have been asked her, honestly how stubborn can those people be? I even sent a letter to Catelyn!"

"Why are we so angry?" The soothing voice of Rhaegar entered the room, followed by Penelope's hurried footsteps.

Arianne stood from her vanity and held the covers to her body closer. Nymella curtsied and backed away from both of them to stand next to Penelope. "What are you doing in here?" She asked feeling her face heat up.

"I cannot see the woman I love in her natural state?" He asked, pushing her to sit back down on the chair and kneeling down next to her. "You should walk around the Keep just like that. I'm sure you would still be the envy of many."

Arianne heard Penelope let out a small moan and a squeak. "You're a very good liar."

"It comes to me naturally," Rhaegar shrugged. Arianne gasped and went to hit his chest, only to have the sheet fall from her hand and expose her for a brief moment. She quickly covered up, only to have Rhaegar stop her by placing a pale hand on her tanned wrist. "Show me once more," he whispered. Arianne pushed him away and stood from her seat, she scaled the wall looking for the secret door that Nymella had shown her a few days ago. Rhaegar let out a chuckle and found the door pushing it open. She looked up at him, shocked and annoyed he knew more about her room than he did. "Who do you think put you in here?" He asked her, pushing her in by the small of her back.

Arianne moved away from him quickly and went to stare at the bath. "You shouldn't have done that," she said, running her hands through the cold water.

"What? Show affection for my betrothed?" he asked, moving closer to her. "It's the first time we've been alone in days."

Arianne looked back at him. "We had plenty of free time on the Kingsroad," she mocked.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he whispered, pulling her closer by her waist. He pulled out a thick wad of letters that had been tied together. "Half from Harrenhal's Maester, the other half from our own." He said, placing them between her hand and breast.

Arianne felt her heart flutter. "Finally," she whispered holding onto them tightly. She relished in the idea of being able to read the news from her family in peace. Without thinking about if they had been angered at her. "What took them so long?" She asked.

Rhaegar shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. See now we wasted valuable breakfast time." He groaned, placing a hand on his stomach. "My father wants us in court today, apparently the Lannister's have arrived and Cersei has a proposition for him."

Arianne sighed, throwing her head back in distaste. "Truthfully, I am glad I have not seen anything too horrific, apart from what was-," she stopped herself.

"What?" Rhaegar asked, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

Arianne pulled herself away. "Nothing," she perked.

Rhaegar sighed and pulled her back, leading them to her basin and leaning upon it. He spread his legs and pulled her between them. "If you think Jonothor didn't tell me, you think very little of our Kingsguard."

Arianne sighed and shook her head. "It was nothing, really."

"No, it's not nothing, Varys was wrong for doing that and if I had my way I would see him hang."

"I mean that's a little  _extreme_ ," Arianne pointed out.

Rhaegar scoffed. "He threatened you, Arianne. You are to be his Queen and he had the audacity to do something like that."

Arianne placed a finger to his lips. "He is good practice then," she pointed out. "You still haven't told me how the meeting was the other day."

"Oh you know," Rhaegar shrugged, not wanting to remember what had happened nor tell her.

_"Ah he joins us," Aerys muttered, directing Rhaegar to sit down next to his left. "We have already discussed most things, while you were busy dicking around."_

_Rhaegar clenched his jaw and brought his hands together on the table. "Hmm, so what do we have left to talk about?" He asked, looking around the table. He noticed how the only people present were only him, Steffon and Stannis Baratheon, his father and Maester Pycelle._

_"Well, we were just discussing what to do with the Frey's, my prince," Stannis piped, once he realized that no one else would inform him._

_"The Frey's?" Rhaegar frowned._

_Aerys let out a cackle. "You're so stupid, I wonder how long you'll be able to keep this damn kingdom together. Yes, the Frey's boy!" His voice rose with every word he uttered. Rhaegar nodded his head, mocking his father and his quick temper. "They almost had me killed! I knew it was wrong to go to that stupid Tourney. It's a miracle any of us made it out alive for hell's sake. Varys, however, gave me the will to fight back, so, I want that entire family wiped out, do you all hear me? Pycelle write this down, all of them, gone."_

_Steffon stood from his seat, "your grace, the curse of Harrenhal will take them out just as it did the Whent's, we do not have to be so hasty."_

_Rhaegar looked at his father and Steffon, he envied the man for standing up to him. "He's right father. You wouldn't want to do anything that gives anyone a reason to-,"_

_"To what?" He asked. Rhaegar couldn't bear look him in the eyes, the milky colour of his skin, the piercing purple of his eyes, his greasy hair, Rhaegar couldn't even look at his hands without his skin wanting to crawl out off his bones. "Good. I want the heads of each and every surviving male of that house! Babe and all."_

Well, that was until Varys strode into the room.


	20. Mine Yours Ours

**MINE YOURS OURS**

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep:**

The doors leading towards the Great Hall burst open, with a chittering Cersei Lannister glowering down at the pageboy in charge of opening the door. ...disgraceful..." she whispered, her voice echoing into the quiet room. Aerys had chosen to only have his closest companions present at the particular hearing. Tired of the heat that the excessive crowds brought along with them and saw no point in their presence. Behind him, stood Rhaella, Rhaegar, Arianne, Elia; holding her son Aegon, Oberyn, and his Kingsguard. The gallery where the lowest ranking usually stood was empty and the floor was quarterly filled with Steffon, Stannis, and closer houses. There couldn't have been any more than twenty people in the entire hall.

He wondered what the young girl could possibly want, a residence at the Keep? Something she could have with the snap of her fingers.  _No._  He thought to himself. A Lannister does not waste their Kings time for such a meager reason. Aerys promised himself that he would see to it that she and her entire family burnt if Tywim had sent her to propose a betrothal. He knew Cersei was waiting for the chance to bring Rhaegar to her arms, and he had no doubt that she would die trying to marry him. Aerys felt himself grow angrier by the second, every step that her heeled shoe took made his blood boil.

"Your grace," Cersei smiled once she had reached the marked spot. Not too close, but close enough to be heard. Cersei looked up at the King, respecting his authority but wanting to assert hers. She was here for one thing and one thing only. The very seat he sat upon, and everyone in the room knew it; subconsciously or not. Aerys let out an  _mmh_ recognizing her presence. Cersei slightly tilted to the queen, "your grace," she blinked at Elia, "your grace," and then to Oberyn, whom her eyes lingered on, "Prince Oberyn," she glanced at Arianne, who had been stood next to Rhaegar and looked straight past her instead bowing her head low for Rhaegar. "My Prince."

Rhaegar looked down at the daring girl in disbelief, it was no secret that Cersei had been vying for his attention for a time now. He noticed it especially at the Tourney when she would shamelessly stare towards him every chance she got, but he did not think the girl was downright stupid enough to speak in ways in front of his father.

 _"My prince,"_ Elia whispered to Oberyn, who in turn held in a laugh and covered it with a loud cough.

Aerys waited for her to address Arianne, and when she continued on presenting herself he cut her off. "I think you missed someone."

Cersei, who had been very used to the King's angry outbursts and saw what the slip of a tongue could bring upon a person smiled stiffly. "Prince Aegon," she smiled nodding her head. Aerys glowered down at her, his head shaking violently and fingers tapping impatiently on the throne. "What shall I address her as? She is certainly no lady," Cersei pointed out.

"Princess would be good for now," Rhaella responded, not wanting to hear what Aerys would've said.

" _Princess,"_ Cersei seethed not even looking at Arianne as she did so. "May I continue with my proposal, your grace?" She asked, looking towards Aerys.

"Get on with it then,  _fuck,"_  Aerys whispered.  _How did my Jo birth this evil creature?_  He asked himself, unsure if Cersei had been given to witches as a youngster or if she had inherited Twyin's irritating traits.

Cersei cleared her throat and straightened herself. "After the most unfortunate events at Harrenhal, may they all rest peacefully," Cersei dramatically said.

Oberyn snapped at the young girl, "mind yourself Lannister." Elia shook her head at her brother, wishing he had some sort of filtering process in his mind. Rather than a think, speak approach, Oberyn seemed to speak and then think some few hours later.

Cersei raised a brow towards him, as if to say  _be careful,_ and continued. "I understand that potential competitors for the much wanted roled as a Kingsguard are especially needed."

"Lannister prisoners are to be sent to the wall," Aerys snapped back.  _The nerve!_

Cersei feigned hurt. "My dear brother? A prisoner? Oh no your grace, I can assure you that my Jaime is the best swordsman you will find, with a good name-"

Rhaegar moved his hand from Arianne's and went to protest. "My lady! He is the first son?" The statement came out more as a question.

"And he would fall on his own sword if it meant saving his kings life, your grace. I-we, came here offering our loyalty to you. A sign that the Lannister name will forever be under yours." She continued, ignoring Rhaegar's continued cries of  _no's._

Aerys looked down at the girl as if she was the most foolish thing to grace the world with her presence. Did Twyin know of this? Better yet did Jaime know about his pledge? Aerys let out an uncanny cackle.  _Oh, how he loved stupid little girls._ He turned to Ser Barristan, "it looks like we won't have to send out those ravens, after all, Barristan."

"Thank you, your grace, you won't regret it." Cersei smiled, curtsying and turning to leave making sure to emphasize the sway of her hips as she did so.

Elia rolled her eyes, put Aegon down took his hand in hers and led him out of the Great Hall through the back doors. Arianne craned her neck to get a look at the child, but it was no use. She had caught a glimpse of his mop of dark hair and had heard him squeal in delight once he had seen his father but Elia and made sure not to show her the slightest bit of his face.

Rhaella looked after Elia and shook her head. "She will warm up to the idea sooner or later. They all will," she smiled indicating to the empty seats of the parlour and small crowd in front of them that had begun to whisper to themselves.

Rhaegar shook his head after the girl and turned to Arianne who shrugged at him. "Tywin has many cousins and nephews that could take after him."

"Since when were you so educated on the family history of the Lannister's?" Oberyn voiced sounded behind Rhaegar.

Rhaegar rolled his eyes and turned to the older Prince. "Since when were you to barge in on private conversations?" He asked, not bothering to turn around and see the nasty etched on Oberyn's face.

Oberyn let out a small laugh. "Your conversations stopped being private the day you first learned to speak, Rhaegar." He reminded him. "Besides, I came here to ask my lady for a walk-."

"She's already seen the gardens."

"I have a voice thank you very much." Arianne gave a side-eye to Rhaegar and huffed. "I'd love to go for a walk, fresh air is something I'd welcome greatly."

Oberyn followed her gaze; it had been on the mounted skulls and skeletons of dragons. "Indeed," he said raising his brows in an exaggerated manner.

"I'll see you at lunch, your Kingsguard will bring you," Rhaegar muttered, placing his hands behind his back and leaving them alone.

After his departure, they were the last two left on standing behind the Iron Throne. Arianne looked at Oberyn awkwardly and gave him the  _are you going to start talking or shall I_ look. Oberyn cleared his throat, "I wanted to begin by apologising. My behaviour, my sister's behaviour, Ashara's behaviour, it isn't right. We have forgotten what it feels like to be away from family for the first time, but for us we had each other to turn to but you have no one-,"

Arianne scoffed, "thank you for the reminder." She folded her hands neatly in front of her and led the way to gardens, but rather than leave through the back doors like the rest of the family had, she made her way to the large black doors of the Hall.

Oberyn wanted to remind her that it probably wasn't right that they leave through there, but by the look on the few high lords and ladies scattered in the Hall, the sooner they left the sooner everybody else could and a delay would not be apricated.

"I understand your anger, I am apologising nothing more," Oberyn pointed out.

Arianne scoffed once more. "It's been months since I have seen my family, you see yours every day. My companions are a little gutter boy and handmaidens whose family probably despise me for my current… _situation_." She pointed out.

Oberyn grimaced as they made their way outside. The sun had been hard at work and left the Red Keeps surrounding areas with a light hue of illusion waves. "If it's of any use, I hardly ever see my sister. Nor my uncle. Both are too busy pleasing the royal family to find time to spend with me."

"They're still here. My brother got married and I wasn't even there to see it. My sister is to be married soon and my poor Lilia is all alone in Winterfell for another few months. I just want to go home. Betrothals are long affairs and I-I don't know if I can wait any longer before I see my family," she blurted.

"Elia spent three years here, alone. No one from Dorne was here then, so it was her and them basically."

"Elia, doesn't want to talk to me. Just like you didn't want to talk to me," Arianne snapped back.

Oberyn let out a small snicker. "Elia is not angry at you. Sometimes she does show her…worst side to the wrong people. But don't let that discourage you from trying to get to know her."

"So, she is rude to me, shows me no respect yet I must try to make her happy?" Arianne asked. She began to feel uncomfortable under the sun and looked for one of the many shaded seats.

"You know I didn't mean it like that Arianne. I don't want to tell you that everything will be alright because it won't. And I wouldn't be holding grudges against those who want the best for you especially now that Cersei is here. More of her kind will follow once the King makes the betrothal announcement," Oberyn said stopping in his tracks and bringing his hand to hers.

"I'm not the one who held a grudge Oberyn, that was you," she pointed out; frustrated more than anything. Figuring out by now that he had been skirting around something.  _This was Oberyn Martell. He doesn't just talk to you for the sake of talking to you._ She thought to herself.

He let out a nervous chuckle. "I do apologise for that. Rejection is not something that comes naturally to me."

"Mhmm," Arianne muttered. "What do you mean more of Cersei's kind are on their way?"

"Well…Cersei has always thought herself to be a  _Queen._ Some fantasy of hers that a witch or some sort told her of. Once people find out that the King doesn't mind replacing wives," he let out a sigh, "let's just say I'll be having a wonderful time." Arianne let out a scoff. "And your Rhaegar is getting no better either."

Arianne frowned up at the young man in front of her. "Is something on your mind Oberyn? You're overtly intrusive today."

Oberyn let out a groan and pointed her towards a shaded circular table where two young boys stood holding plates of golden glasses. "Leave us," Oberyn ordered. The boys scattered away and Arianne tutted at Oberyn. They sat down and he pulled out a small rolled up piece of parchment.

"Is that one of Rhaegar's plans?" She asked, suddenly very intrigued.

Oberyn shook his head. "No of course not. He never writes anything down. Rhaegar keeps his  _plans_ little girl, all in here." He tapped his head and winked.

"You're still not on my good side, it'll take more than a wink and double-edged compliment to get me to forgive you for leaving me to fend for myself all these weeks," she said feigning a glare and snatching the scroll from his hands.

Oberyn moved closer to her and he glanced sideways at a passing couple. "Don't – don't read it out loud. It's…serious."

Arianne blinked at home shocked. " _Okay."_  She whispered back holding back her laughter.  _God, how could he make me feel full of rage and still make me laugh._

She opened up the scroll, glancing up at him one last time, just in case her judgment would change after she had read it.

_Oberyn,_

_I am truly sorry for the atrocities that befell you, your family and the Royal family. I am not writing to you this time to beg for forgiveness, I know you will give that to me when we see each other again. I know that nothing, not even the Frey's could keep us apart. I am writing this letter to implore you, beg you, to come to your sense and convince anyone with the power to, to take the Frey's out of my home. My mother is traveling to Kings Landing as I write this, the only thing holding her back was the-_

The handwriting of the first part became blotchy and what were once wet spots obscured some words.

_-wedding of my cousin._

"This is my sister's hand!" Arianne squealed excitedly pushing Oberyn's chest.

Oberyn sighed. "Keep reading it, it gets worse."

 _She is coming to ask the King for a pardon and a small army to retake our castle. Lord Tully and Lord –_ her voice rose _– Stark, both, tried convincing her against it but she wouldn't listen. My brother's, we do not know if they are dead or prisoners and Lord Frey has said that if we wish to see them once more, living or dead, I must marry one of his sons. I cannot do that. This is my third time telling you my love, I would surely hang if I married one of the Frey's and my child came out looking more Dornish than Westerosi. Please respond to my ravens, I will not stop writing them. Not until I die._

_Love,_

_Your Merida._

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

"Shella, I cannot let you go. You have a home here. The Frey's cannot touch you here!" Hoster shouted, taking hold of Shella Whent's small shoulders and shaking her senseless.

Shella pushed her good-brother off her. "You don't understand. I have to go. I have to get my home back Hoster. If Riverrun had been taken from you and  _scum_  threatened you, daughter's and son, wouldn't you do anything to-"

"Of course I would!" Hoster defensively snapped back. "But I would never go near the capitol. I would look to my friends for help, and I am your friend."

"Oh, he can't make her stay!" Merida cried out, looking down the balcony at her mother and uncle arguing.

Lyanna and Catelyn glanced at each other shortly, unsure of how to comfort her.

 _Lysa you selfish cow where the hell are you?_ Lyanna thought to herself, almost letting out a grunt.

Catelyn twirled her ring between her middle finger and thumb. "I'm sure father will be able to convince her, she just needs to think rationally."

It seemed she had spoken too soon, for Shella had already been helped by a servant onto her horse. The same servant got onto his own horse and waited for her nod to lead them out of the castle. The soldier at the top of the drawbridge tower looked down at Lord Tully for an okay to bring down the bridge. Shella didn't bother to turn to him to ask him to approve of it, knowing he knew what she was doing was something even Hoster couldn't keep her from doing.

"Oh, will he?" Merida glowered, watching as her mother crossed the bridge from the castle to ground. She looked at both girls disappointed that they had given her false hope, and rushed back to her room.

Catelyn looked after her grimacing, "she'll be fine." She shrugged, knowing all too well she wouldn't be, but not knowing exactly how to deal with her cousin. "Tea?" She asked Lyanna.

"Cake?" Lyanna responded she had been craving sweets ever since the wedding and lack of sweet foods present.

Catelyn let out a low chuckle. "I can ask for some to be made? It'll take a while though, father had us stop eating sweets a long time ago."

Lyanna scowled. "Not even lemon cakes?"

"I'm sure Lysa has them made regularly; with all the damned  _tea parties_ she hosts in the gardens with gods know who.

Lyanna felt her mood lift once more as they entered Catelyn's room. "Fantastic."

They sat down and Catelyn pulled a small string by her bed that Lyanna assumed went down to the kitchens because it was marked  _TEA TIME._ Catelyn gave Lyanna a pointed look.

"What?" Lyanna smiled, playing with the braids in her hair. She had grown very close with Catelyn, unable to leave the older girls side during her stay at Riverrun. She dreaded the day that Catelyn had to leave Storms End for Winterfell. But she knew it was inevitable and they would see each other soon enough at Kingslanding. Lyanna pushed aside the thoughts of seeing her sister soon, feeling guilty for not pushing her family to visit Kingslanding before her wedding. She knew it would be met with backlash from her brother and father, as they wanted to move her wedding along quickly.

"Did you talk to Rober at the wedding?" Catelyn asked Lyanna, wondering why she hadn't seen the two together during the ceremony.

"No, I avoided him like a deadly illness," Lyanna responded.

"Why?" Catelyn pondered.

Lyanna shrugged. "I feel selfish. Here I am prancing around while my sister is with a-a madman!" She felt her voice grow as she said her thoughts out loud. "How is it plausible for me to fall in love while she is alone. No family. No friends-"

Catelyn tutted and gave Lyanna a cold look. "Your sister is one of the most sociable people I have ever encountered. And how is her situation any different from ours? We marry men we did not choose. We move away from family. Better yet she is marrying a Prince, and she will give birth to future Princes and Princesses. We cannot feel  _too_ sorry for her. Can we? I think rather we should feel sorry for ourselves. She gets to stay where the sun is, me in a snowbound eternity and you a literal everlasting storm."

"I think we should all feel sorry for ourselves," Lyanna pointed out thanking her good sister with a gentle touch to the palm.

"Well, I'm not that sorry for myself," Catelyn smirked looking up at the high ceiling in a cheeky manner.

"Spare me," Lyanna said, feeling herself grow nauseous at the image.

She wasn't left with it too long though, there was a brisk knock on the door, and before Catelyn could say her usual  _come in_ it was pushed open.

"I beg your pardon!" Catelyn said, standing from her seat ready to give whoever had intruded into her room an earful.

Merdia looked at Catelyn with bloodshot eyes and threw a piece of parchment onto the tea table. She pointed to Catelyn to get an ink tube and gave Lyanna her quill. "Write as I speak." She instructed. Lyanna opened her mouth to object but looked down at the shotty handwriting and couldn't find it in herself to object.

 _Oberyn?_ She thought to herself, reading the letter quickly before Catelyn handed her the ink tube.

"Write - She is coming to ask the King for a pardon and an army - no - small army to retake our castle. Lord Tully and Lord Stark, both, -"

Lyanna had to cut her off, "My father and brother never tried to-"

Merdia hit her across the head, "so will they help raise this child? No, fantastic, continue writing."

Catelyn tried to object her actions but assuming by what she just did to Lyanna didn't want to come between a determined girl and her letter. "Baby? Merdia are you-,"

"And suddenly everyone understands basic human physiology. Please write for the love of the seven - they tried convincing her against it but she wouldn't listen. My brother's, we do not know if they are dead or prisoners and Lord Frey has said that if we wish to see them once more, living or dead, I must marry one of his sons. I cannot do that. This is my third time telling you Oberyn - no don't write that put in - my love, I would surely hang if I married one of the Frey's and my child came out looking more Dornish than Westerosi. That or I hang myself."

"Merida I'm not writing that," Lyanna whispered, unsure if the girl had heard her. She opted out of writing it, unsure if Oberyn was as unstable as her.

"Please respond to my ravens, I will not stop writing them. Not until I die. Love, your Merida."

 _Your Merdia,_ Lyanna thought to herself as she finished the letter and let Merida sign her initials M.W at the end of it.

"Now if I hear a word of this letter or this baby or Oberyn outside of these four walls to anyone else, let it be Lysa or your fathers or your husband I will turn to black magic to doom you all," and with that, she was gone as briskly as she had entered.

Catelyn stood from her seat and rushed out after her. "Merdia we can help you, please wait!"


	21. Friendships

**[I** _**never do this but this chapter is sensitive to childbirth/miscarriages, I'll put a little * where it begins and ends for those who want to opt out of reading it** _ **]**

**FRIENDSHIPS**

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

Rhaegar sighed, nodding to Arthur as he walked out of his chambers. "Excited?" Arthur asked him.

"To see those two idiots?" Rhaegar chuckled. In all honesty, he had missed his close companions. Although Julian Tyrell and Otto Redwyne had only spent a few weeks at the Keep, during the birthing of his son and to celebrate, Rhaegar had grown freakishly close with them both. Both despised their families but their positions and loyalties disallowed them from making any real tactical moves to undermine them. Julian, had been stuck with his aunt, who as he said  _had a nose larder than an anteater_ and Otto, merely was lonely cooped up at Old Town with his lavish sisters.

Arthur laughed along with him. It wasn't really his job to make friends, but how could he resist when Rhaegar had such great taste in friends? "I can't say I don't enjoy their company, even if they are distracting and reckless as children."

Their chatter was abruptly stopped an ear crippling scream. Rhaegar turned back to his quarters, which were very close to the nursery, Elia's room, Arianne's room and his parents' room. "Did you hear that?" He asked Arthur. He did have a tendency to dream up sounds at random times of the day, so a nod from Arthur assured him it wasn't his ears or imagination playing tricks on him. Almost as quickly as Arthur nodded his head once, Rhaegar was dashing back to the chambers. Opening every door he could, even the rooms that he knew were empty. The nursey, which was closely guarded by Kingsguard was as quiet as the night, with the children taking their nap; he mumbled a small sorry to the wet nurse and closed the door. The next room, Elia's room, was empty.

"She's doing her mothers charity garden party," Arthur reminded him.

 _What even was that._ Rhaegar asked himself but knew better than to question his wife's' many tendencies to busy herself around the castle. He opened the door to Arianne's room, which was also empty.

"Walk with-"

"Oberyn, I know. Just double checking," Rhaegar huffed. The next room was his parent's room. A smaller scream came from their room, and Rhaegar felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Ser Barristan stood in front of the room, as solid as a statue and with his helm on. "Barristan, have you gone deaf. That's my mother screaming in there." He moved to open the door, only to have Barristan move in front of him.

"Ser Barristan," Arthur said, wondering why the skilled knight was fighting their attempts to enter the room.

"Have you been called by the King?" He asked both of them.

**Rhaegar scoffed at him and pushed him aside, although noticing that Barristan basically moved for him. He turned the charcoal dragon-headed door and stepped into the room. "Mother!" He exclaimed. The gruesome sight in front of him brought flashbacks of Elia's pregnancies and he felt his stomach churn. His mother lay on the floor, holding her small stomach and groaning in pain. Her white dress was soaked through and through with her blood.**

"Rhaegar," she whispered, reaching out for his hand.

"Don't just stand there!" He managed to stutter out to Barristan and Arthur. "Get help." Aerys stood above them, back arched forward involuntarily and glowering at them both. "What did you do?" Rhaegar asked him, touching his mother's bloody waist. "What did you do!?" He felt his hair sweep his face as he yelled the question once more. The neat bun it was in falling apart as he shook. The crown he wore on his head sliding from here to there as he did so.

"I never touched her," Aerys responded, calm as ever. "A lesser man's child. That'll teach you to bed another. Good riddance," and with that, he shuffled out of the room but before leaving said, "don't bother coming to the small council meeting, we're discussing serious issues."

He didn't watch his father leave, not wanting to give himself thoughts of shoving him down the stairs, strangling him or better yet using the sword that was propped up on the wall to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"My darling boy," Rhaella whispered, touching his hair and smiling gently. "I'll be fine."

Rhaegar felt himself stuttering once more. "W-what do you mean?" But she didn't respond. The door opened once more and Maester Pycelle walked into the room, followed by servants and maid holding buckets of water, clean clothes and bundles of cloth.

"Put her on the bed and leave us, your grace," Pycelle instructed clicking his fingers for his toolbox to be brought to him by younger maester behind him.

Rhaegar did as he was instructed and placed her gently on the now stripped bed.  _They work fast_  he thought to himself watching as the maids quickly folded the silk bed sheets. "I want to stay," he told Pycelle.

Pycelle gave him a pointed look. "She doesn't want you to stay," he reminded him. "Private matters, and such."

Rhaegar nodded his head, he watched as his mother was stripped of her clothes and turned to leave to give her decency. Before he left, a young girl squeaked something to him and held out a warm bowl while another waited beside her with a black cloth. He dipped his hands inside and watched as the bowl was filled with wisps of red. Drying his hands he thanked them and closed the door behind him.

Barristan stood at the door, now with his helm off and holding his head low. "How could you just leave her there?" He asked him.

"I've tried, your grace, many times. Usually, it's the King...forgive me, your grace. I know my place."

"Yes the Kingsgaurd to protect the royal family," Rhaegar snapped back.

Barristan nodded his head. "Aye, the Kingsgaurd. But not to protect the royal family from the  _king_."

...

"Your grace," Arthur mumbled, unsure of how to remind him that he had guests waiting for him.

"Arthur please, respect both of us," Rhaegar sighed rolling his eyes at the man's insistence to talk to him formerly.

"They're in your guest house. Shall I call for wine?" He asked him.

Rhaegar sighed once more and snatched Arthur's helm from his hand. "Starting now, you are Arthur Dayne. Now,  _friend_ , let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Arthur quickened his pace to follow Rhaegar, who walked at a brisk pace, almost running away from the King's wing. "Are you sure, you're alright to meet them today? It would understandable to postpone."

"I'm fine, let's just get there, they've waited long enough." They walked past the gardens and fountains as the crossed from the Keep to the guest house, greeting many as they did. Rhaegar holding his hands behind his back and making sure to cover them, not wanting anyone to notice anything. He caught a quick glimpse of Arianne and Oberyn seated in a shaded chair, she was reading something and gleefully hit his chest. Oberyn laughed as she did so.

 _I'll have time to be jealous later._ He thought to himself, turning away and opening the gates to the guest house. They walked up the stone steps, greeting the lords and ladies that he had allowed into his section. Most of the time for their own sake and they felt favoured by their golden Prince when presented the invitation to vacate the premises during their stay.

"Oh you fat bastard!" The smooth voice of Julian Tyrell was heard behind him, causing many heads to turn and shake in disgust.

"Watch your tone my friend," Rhaegar muttered taking Julian into a one-handed hug.

Julian put down his wine glass and put both hands by his side. "Your grace," he mimicked, greeting Arthur with a kiss on the cheek.

"How much have you had to drink?" Rhaegar asked him, picking up the wine glass and pouring the wine into the shrubs near them.

Julian let out a shocked expression. "I beg your pardon. Boy fill my cup, properly this time," he said rudely basically throwing his cup at a servant nearby. "So where am I staying?"

"Where's Otto?" Rhaegar asked, leading them into the private section of the guesthouse. It was reserved for Cersei when they were younger, but that was another story altogether.

Julian shrugged, picking up a grade bowl as Rhaegar led them to the lounge. "How am I supposed to know?" He said, his mouth full.

"Okay, I feel like this is you're angry at someone...something?" Arthur queered, sitting down on one of the plush seats.

The eccentric boy huffed and sat opposite him. "So you know how that dumby Cersei basically swore Jaime into the Kingsgaurd. Well, aunt Olenna wants to marry me to Lysa Tully. She says she's the best match I could hope for."

"She is," Rhaegar responded honestly pointing to him as if to say  _look at yourself._

Julian scoffed at him and rolled his eyes. "So how's everything here? How's your I love my father too much to usurp him and save the kingdom campaign going?"

Arthur tutted and shook his head, as Rhaegar looked to the floor uncomfortably. "That's enough from you."

"Hit a nerve? Someone has to tell you Rhaegar. They're waiting for you!" He exclaimed raising from his seat excitedly. His silk blue dress shirt and cotton black pants flowing as he did so. "They're begging you to sit on that throne. Your arse is begging you to sit on that throne Rhaegar. It's your time." He paused for a moment wondering if Rhaegar was taking in anything he was saying. "Don't wait until it's too late. Don't doubt these young lords. My father said they're all hotheaded and thirsty for war, one small reason and they'll be  _rearing_ to go," he exaggerated. "And you know marrying a bastard is not so bad if-"

"That's really enough from you now," Rhaegar said, his voice flat. "Insult me all you want but not my-"

"Your? Oh, you are truly in love my prince," he chuckled. "In all seriousness, it's time to show them what you're made of."

"Still a rambling drunk," Jaime Lannister's playful voice was heard from behind them.

Julian looked between Rhaegar, Arthur's confused face and then back at Rhaegar. "You weren't invited. Go practice guarding something-no offense Arthur," Julian glared.

"Will you ever stop drinking?" Jaime asked Julian, watching as a servant boy handed him a full glass of wine, and placed a large jug down next to him.

"By wine, I was brought into this land and by wine, I shall leave it," he smirked, raising his glass and taking a gulp.

Rhaegar stood from his seat and extended his hand out for Jaime to shake, which he did. "What made you want to give up your titles?" He asked, ignoring Julian.

Jaime looked like he was battling with himself, almost as if he didn't want to but was forced to. "Father was actually getting serious about the Tully girl, said no Stark was to beat him to a grandson."

"Liar," Julian tutted, pointing at him accusingly.

"No matter the reason, we are to be companions now, no longer enemies," Rhaegar pointed out.

"I was never your enemy, I think my loyal attendance at your meetings was proof of that enough," Jaime said, sliding his hands into his pockets and walking around the room. Rhaegar raised a brow at him. "I don't take rejection well," Jaime admitted shrugging.

"No matter now, what I'm about to say doesn't leave this room or your minds, except for when conversing with one another in private, understood?" Rhaegar said, standing from his seat.

Julian and Jaime sat down wondering what he was talking about. "Alright there Gregory the gallant, what are you talking about?"

Rhaegar couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, trust Julian to lift his mood. "Let's just say, I don't need you to remind me that it's my turn to rule."

"Finally," Julian sighed, sipping from his cup.

"Right well, I'll be hosting a ball soon, for Arianne. As a welcome present. She hasn't exactly been made to feel too welcome as of late. And Julian I'm going to need you to stay sober throughout-,"

Julian let out a long laugh. "Alright, jokes aside brother." But stopped his laughter when he realised that the Prince wasn't joking indeed.

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

The rain had not stopped beating down on Riverrun since the sun had risen, and it made everyone not want to leave their quarters for the majority of the day. Everyone that was, except for a very determined Rickard Stark, who was stood outside of Brandon's door as late as could be, and growing more and more impatient by the second.

"Brandon, it's your father!" He shouted, seemingly unaware of the surrounding rooms.

There was rustling in the room, the bed creaking and footsteps approaching the door. Brandon stood in nightgown staring at his father disapprovingly. "What in gods name could you want at this hour?" He mumbled.

Rickard stopped himself from hitting the boy across the head once he saw Catelyn's mass of auburn sprawled across the bed.  _Save the embarrassment just this once_  he thought to himself as he nodded to her. "I do apologise, my lady."

"Not at all my lord," her soft voice rang back to him.

Brandon closed the door after their encounter and looked at his father as if to say  _please hurry up_.

"You have to go to Winterfell at once. With your wife and all your belongings. It's time to leave Hoster his home," Rickard said.

Brandon looked at his father, wanting to implode with anger. "So you woke me up at midnight, to tell me I have to go home?"

"No, I woke you up at midnight to tell you, it's time to go home. As of tomorrow. I can not have no Starks in Winterfell any longer," he said honestly.

Brandon nodded his head in understanding but knew that by the time they were packed and had told the party set up outside of the castle gates to pack up, their journey would not start until the day after. "As you wish it." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

Before he turned to return into his room, however, Rickard cleared his throat. "Lilia...she's pregnant. I'll tell you now to save the grief I know you will give her when you arrive."

Brandon felt his eyes bulge. "Don't tell me it's yours."

 _I wish I could say the opposite._ Rickard thought to himself. "No. Apparently, it is."

"Father," Brandon said, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"No one must know. She has told me that the Maester believes she miscarried. She is weak and our men can only do so much, especially in these times of uncertainty" he responded. "Now rest, you leave tomorrow."

"I've written a letter to the King, by the way-"

"Gods be good, boy."

"Only asking when the wedding date, if there will be one, will be. No response as of yet."

_"Will you run to a whore's open legs for comfort whenever my sister upsets you? Because if so, I don't think there will be enough whores in Storms End for that."_

_..._


	22. Generations

**GENERATIONS**

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

"Is everything alright?" Arianne asked Rhaegar. He had been unusually quiet during their lunch the day before, left early and didn't bother showing up to dinner. Now at breakfast in the gardens, he seemed dazed as he looked ominously at the dainty flowers moving in the morning breeze.

He looked up at her and raised his brow. "Hmm?"

Arianne wondered if there was anything he was keeping from her, but chose not to pester him any more than she'd already had. Especially since she had been planning on asking him if she could bring over Lilia from Winterfell as her companion rather than handmaiden. Something Nymella and Penelope knew was going to be simply out of the question. "I was just saying, I wonder what Oberyn's going to do about his bastard situation."

Rhaegar shrugged, playing with his fruit platter and poking at his oranges gently. "Oberyn is probably the father of half of Dorne." Arianne gave him a pointed look and he rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm sure he's more worried about Merida causing a scene in his life than having a child to take care of."

She nodded her head, it  _had_ seemed that way the day before. He seemed unbothered by the prospect of a son or daughter, but rather told her he feared that if Merida's mother came here she would go crazy demanding Oberyn to do something and it would reflect badly on him if he didn't. "Well, speaking of children...I think it's high time I met Aegon and Rhaeyns don't you think?" She asked, treading lightly with her words. She had asked many times before and been rejected every single time.

Rhaegar racked his brain for what Elia might be doing, unsure if she would be in the nursery with them. "Alright." He eventually said, satisfied enough that he had left the silence to draw out enough. "After that, I have a very good friend of mine I'd like for you to meet."

"Oh, I feel special," Arianne smiled, taking the hand he had offered to her and standing from her seat.

The walk to the nursery was short, seeing as they were still in the Keep rather than another garden in the castle. The door to the nursey was heavy and when Rhaegar knocked on it, it made an unnaturally loud sound. "My brother might be in here, sometimes mother's able to sneak him in to have a little time with his nephew and niece."

"Sneak him in?" Arianne asked, tapping her foot lightly as they waited for the door to open.

Rhaegar raised a brow at her, as if to say,  _it's okay if you've heard rumours._ But before he could reassure her, the door was opened and squealing was heard from inside. In the nursery were two large cribs, almost the size of Arianne's bed in Winterfell, and musicians entertaining the children while wetnurses watched them closely. Hidden in corners of the room were four Kingsgaurd, each stood as still as the all.

"Talk about coddling," Arianne whispered. She followed Rhaegar into the room, his hand finding its way to her own and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Rhaeyns, why don't you come and say hello," he cooed waving his hand over to his daughter.

The little girl turned around, let go of the harp that she had a deadly grip on and ran into her fathers' arms. "Papa!" she squealed.

Arianne couldn't help but admire the little girl, she was chubby and had short black hair. Though one silver wisp flowed down, longer than the rest and was braided back. Her eyes, which Arianne assumed would be purple, were a brown. She looked quizzically at her. How odd it was that she inherited her mothers' eyes just as Arianne had. She bent down and smiled at Rhaenys. "Hello, there little one."

Rhaenys looked at her cautiously, poking her stubby finger into her eye. Arianne covered her eye with both hands wincing. "Rhaenys!" Rhaegar exclaimed, unable to keep the smile on his face a secret.

"Daddy eyes, daddy eyes," the girl repeated, returning back to her jumpy self and cuddling into her father. She hugged him, squirmed in his arms, played with his hair and even dared to take the crown that was placed on his head.

"No sweetheart, give that back," Rhaegar warned, though his tone playful.

Rhaenys let out a giggle and roughly gave it back to him, "mama Ashara says sharing is caring."

"Does she now," Arianne laughed, unable to align her situation with Ashara's words of wisdom.

Rhaenys laughed along with her, though Arianne was sure she was merely doing it for the fun of it. "Mama...?" She looked to Arianne for help.

Arianne, in turn, looked at Rhaegar, unsure of what she was asking. "Mama Arianne," Rhaegar said pointing to her.

"Mama Arinen," Rhaenys said, puffing her chest out in pride. "Look, baby," she said tugging at Arianne's dress and pointing to her baby brother. He was tossing and turning in his bed, and once he saw three pairs of eyes on him, had his arms stretched out to be held.

Rhaenys tried picking him up, pulling at his arm roughly. Arianne, however, stopped her and picked the light boy up, he sang gleefully as she did so.

"Papa, may we take her to our secret water fountain?" Rhaenys asked, tugging at her father's sleeves. He missed her statement, too busy looking at Arianne holding his son. He looked at Rhaenys, confused, and she repeated her question.

Rhaegar covered her mouth with his hand "It not a secret anymore my little dragon is it?"

Their conversation was cut short though with a shriek from Arianne, she handed Aegon to his wet nurse and reassured her there was nothing to worry about as she told the other to help her clean her dress.

"I dare not come close to you now do I?" Rhaegar asked, looking at the small white patch at the back of Arianne's dress.

Arianne rolled her eyes. "I dare not care."

Rhaegar picked up Rhaenys and swung her legs to hit Arianne's. "You do not care? Tell her Rhaenys. How dare you do not dare to care!?"

Rhaenys squealed as he flipped her over his shoulder. "Papa is stupid."

"Who taught you that word?"

"Papa did."

"Ah, well don't say it," Rhaegar responded, unsure as to when he let it slip around the young girl. She had a knack for picking up words that weren't meant to be said by a girl her age. Arianne snickered still wiping at the back of her dress with the wet cloth. Putting Rhaenys down he ushered her to play with the musicians, but she refused and clung onto him. Rhaegar took her hand and then took Arianne's, "I cannot wait to have our own three dragons."

Arianne frowned at him. "It is said you were good at mathematics. Two and one make three, Rhaegar."

Rhaegar shook his head, "you can't have three heads from different mothers. Besides I'm selfish, sometimes."

Arianne looked at him in shock, " how can you be so inconsiderate of your own children."

"I doubt they'll even want to see the throne,"

"And ours will?"

"Elia wants to take them back to Dorne," he responded.

Arianne scoffed, pushing his hand from hers. "I grew up with the best liar in Winterfell Rhaegar. Don't take me for a fool. You're sending them to Dorne."

"You believe I would send my beloved to Dorne?" He asked her, focusing his attention on stroking his daughter's hair and watching as his son was placed back in the crib. "She wants to take them from me."

"Take what from you Rhaegar!? They are both your kids, work something out and get back to me when you figure out your  _predicament_." She made sure to say her words lightly, not wanting to upset the little girl, bid both the children goodbye and left the room as quietly as she had entered.

"Liar liar liar!" Rhaenys shouted returning back to the musicians who at her command returned to playing her favourite song. She was back to skipping around the room gleefully, rattling her brother's crib and refusing her father to leave after Arianne. "Papa stay here until I go to sleep."

Rhaegar held her arms as she hugged him and shook his head. "Papa has work to do darling, maybe another time."

"Please papa, please," she begged, her voice cracking as she did so.

Rhaegar sighed, threw his head back and picked her up. "Papa will stay here as long as you want me to than my little Princess."

...

Arianne sighed, finding herself plucking at the ugly sunflowers in front of her. She had tried finding her way to either Nymella or Penelope, remembering them mentioning that their rooms were not in the Keep but where lower families are placed. She grunted in frustration, not bothered by the servant boy who watched her curiously as he held his jug of wine proudly. After a while he shuffled to the left and disappeared, Arianne didn't bother to let her mind focus on him. He probably needed a break. Though unlike his companions who were lined up on the main sidewalk underneath the unforgiving sun, he was behind a large bush and near a small pond.

"Shut up!" She found herself whispering. Standing from her seat on the large rocks and leaning over the pond to gaze down at the frogs. The noisy creatures looked up at her from their blissful world and croaked in rhythm, almost mimicking her. She felt like sticking her hand in the pond and choking every last one of them but knew that if anyone were to see her, she would be the face of gossip. So instead she stuck out her index finger and stroked the odd creatures. "You're all so ugly," she whispered, laughed to herself. She heard rustling behind her and turned to see who had interrupted her private moment with new friends. It was the servant boy and he behind him stood a tall gentleman in a blue shirt, one Arianne had never seen the fashion of. It looked as if it were water, flowing with him as he walked towards her.

"Well done boy, here have some tea. Or find yourself a pretty young thing hey," the man whispered, holding a golden coin between his fingers and flashing a smile at the servant; who in turn didn't hesitate to snatch it from him and hurriedly leave the area. Before he could though the man took the wine jar from his hands and clicked his fingers for the two glass cups that were behind the servants back.

Arianne looked at him quizzically, wondering what he had said to frighten the boy away. "Who are you?" She asked frowning at him as he poured them both a glass of wine.

"Haven't you been told?" He asked, pursing his lips as he struggled to balance the two cups in one hand, wine spilling to the dusty floor under him and onto his leather shoes. "Dammit these were freshly commissioned," he muttered, throwing the jug behind him carelessly and handing her a glass.

Arianne took it from her, though unlike him she didn't drink it. "No they haven't," she replied flatly rolling her eyes.

"Julian Tyrell-" her face contorted into one of distaste, she quickly covered it with a strained smile. "And you've met my aunt, I presume?" Julian laughed.

Arianne let out a snort. "She gave me an important  _lesson_ at Harrenhal." She whispered the ghastly castles names, remembering the happenings and feeling it taboo to even utter the name.

"Usually that means she sees you as a threat, yay you," he smirked tapping her bare shoulder. Arianne moved away from him, feeling uncomfortable at his touch, he didn't seem to sense her discomfort though, continuing their conversation. "So who are  _you,_ fine lady?"

Arianne scoffed as he took her hand in his and kissed it. "I'm a handmaiden ... to the ... to a high lady," she lied moving back from him once more.

Julian let out a laugh and moved closer to her. "I could've mistaken you for a high-end pleasure giver from Lys."

She couldn't even find it in herself to be angry at home, too tired for a headache he was giving her. "Are you finished?" She asked him, putting down her cup the rock she had been sitting down on crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, because I don't appreciate being lied to," he retorted, kicking the cup to the side and sitting down. "I know who you are. You think my main man would lead me to any old girl?" He asked her, raising a brow as he looked up at her.

Arianne frowned back at him. "Main man?"

"You think he looks like the type to stand around in a private area for the shits and giggles. He followed you here like I asked him to." Julian replied shrugging his shoulders and letting out a lazy sigh. Arianne blinked at him, wondering who else was keeping tabs on her. She felt her heart beating so hard that it pulsed throughout her entire body, all the way down to her toes. Gulping, she went to reply but her beat her to it. "Now Ashara Dayne, how does a lovely lady like yourself end up alone and talking to ... water?" He asked, looking at the pond and then back to her.

Arianne couldn't help but laugh, perhaps he'd been lying or his  _main man_  had given him false information. Or perhaps he thought she was Ashara.  _He was looking for Ashara._ Arianne thought to herself, wondering what tales were being told of the young handmaiden. She ran ideas through her mind, wondering what exactly to say to him.  _Maybe I should give her a taste of her own medicine?_ Arianne thought to herself. Ashara had been making her stay at Kingslanding hostile, refusing to even acknowledge her existence whenever she was near her. Before she could impersonate Ashara though, her father's voice whispered through her mind.  _So noble he's even in my_ _conscious._ "Not her, sorry." She finally replied and turned to leave the private area.

Julian stood from his seat and took her hand, preventing her from leaving. Arianne looked at him and then back at her hand raising her brow. "Lady Dayne," he smirked pulling her closer.

"Let go of me you brute."

"If a Stark can earn a dance from you, surely I deserve more."

"Oh I'll show you what you deserve," Arianne snapped back, moving her other hand to hit him, anywhere.

He swatted it back, "purple eyes, just as I'd imagined. Gods, you look so different." Julian said moving closer to her. Arianne gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath. He held himself well for a drunk man. "One kiss and I'll let you free." Julian smiled, turning her around so she wasn't near the exist anymore.

Arianne felt her free hand begin to shake as he took it in his own and placed it behind her back. "I'll scream bloody murder if you try anything."

Julian let out a laugh as she tried wriggling from his grip. Arianne saw his hazed eyes and let out a yelp, threatening him once more. "She bites," he whispered, touching his forehead with hers. A loud shrill scream was heard from her, Julian cut if off by placing a rough kiss on her lips. He let go of her hands and instead her head, Arianne cupped her hand and smacked it against his ear, causing him to retract and grasp his ear in pain. "What the fuck!?" He shouted, groaning in pain.

"I am  _not_  some whore you can manhandle!" She seethed looking to his left and right for a way out. "Now move." Instead of responding, Julian continued cupping his ear in pain. "Move!" She snapped.

Julian stood back up as if his ear had healed, though, in all honesty, it was ringing painfully. "Arthur won't find out if that's what you're worried about."

Arianne felt as if the sky had fallen in on her, "I don't want to kiss you, better yet talk to you, leave me alone and let me leave!" She yelled, trying to get past him.

The same smirk was plastered back on Julian's face as he moved left and right everytime she tried to leave. "Just one more kiss." He said. Arianne tried to move past him, but he outstretched his arm tutting. "Uh-uh," Julian whispered, pushing her back.

Arianne felt hot streams fall down her face and she wiped them away quickly. "I'm not Ashara Dayne, just leave me be!"

"Oh pish posh, who else has purple eyes and black hair?" Julian questioned her.

"Me, obviously," she snapped back. Her nose was now running. In the short silence, she heard the clanking armour of a Kingsguard walking, followed by shuffling and movement of the pathway and then light chitter chatter. "Hello!? Somebody help!" Arianne yelled, looking right at Julian as she did so. Julian, in a drunk daze, pushed her right into the pond, unsure of how else to deal with the situation. If she really was Ashara and that was a Kingsguard, even drunk Julian knew that was begging for bad attention. Arianne shrieked as she fell back into the pond, feeling the water lilies and mud brush against her as she fell in. The pond was in no way deep, but she was covered in muck from head to toe.

"Arianne?" Ashara said, looking at the young girl in the pond.

"What the hell?" Julian frowned, looking between them too. It didn't take long for him to notice his mistake, he pushed out his lips in guilt and tried leaving the secluded area unnoticed, which was futile as Elia stood in front of him, arms in front of her chest. Helmed Kingsguards stared down at him as he tried to make his exit. "Okay Arthur is very small compared to you fine brutes," he nervously chuckled, tapping the smaller one of the two on his breastplate.

"Are you alright?" Ashara asked Arianne, looking down at her and offering her hand.

"What would you care?" Arianne said, wiping the mud on her hand on a rock and taking the help.

"I know what it feels like to be...pressured by the likes of him," she responded honestly. "Come, we'll get you into a bath."

"If I may, my lady, I'll take her back to her room." Arianne recognised the voice of Ser Jonothor and she instantly felt at ease.

"Right well, see you around I suppose, purple maiden," Ashara chuckled.

Arianne looked at her remorsefully. "It's going to take more than a joke to win me over Lady Dayne," she said truthfully, taking the white cloak that Jonothor offered her, bowing her head towards Elia and excusing herself. As she left the bushed pond area, Arianne heard Elia whisper to Julian a small sentence of disgust, she turned her head, and her party of handmaidens and maids continued walking, Julian stumbled back into the private area and was left to his own devices.

"Shall I tell the Prince, my lady?" Jonothor asked he walked a few paces behind her.

"No. Fuck the Prince," she whispered, quickening her pace. And Jonothor nodded his head and erased all memory of her uttering those three words.

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

Catelyn woke up early, earlier than her husband who she knew had a tendency to leave her in bed when he woke and complain that she was a heavy sleeper. She turned to look at Brandon, who's mouth was ajar and letting out small whispers of breaths. She smiled to herself. Though for not too long, remembering her agenda for the day. After watching Merida turn into a hot mess, Catelyn found it her duty to do something,  _anything,_ to help her. So she would go to her father and ask him to allow her to go to Dorne, and at least try and arrange for Oberyn Martell to meet her there. She knew the plan was naive, Oberyn would never leave his sister, family and vessel houses for a bastard. No one would. Catelyn saw Brandon begin to open his eyes and covered her head with the fur cover.

"Nice try," he mumbled moving the cover from her. "I saw you admiring me."

Catelyn scoffed. "You were merely a backdrop to my thoughts, get over yourself," Catelyn smiled, kicking him gently under the covers.

"Surprised but not disappointed," Brandon lazily joked. There was a knock on the room door and he groaned, "this room is cursed," he muttered getting up.

Catelyn stopped him by placing her hand gently on his chest. "No matter. Come in," she called out. Brandon looked at her quizzically. "We aren't doing anything wrong. I mean, I am your wife aren't I?" She whispered as the door opened.

 _My wife._ Brandon thought, unsure of how exactly he felt about that phrase. He enjoyed her company and gods knew he needed it for he could not be alone with his thoughts or anger for too long, but he was nervous to return back to Winterfell. With only Ned and his father to keep him company outside of his wife, he knew he had some boring days to come.

"A letter for you my lord," the servant said, bowing her head respectfully as she gave it to him. "I wouldn't disturb you at this hour, but the Maester said it's from the King."

Brandon didn't even thank her before snatching the letter from her hands and ripping it open. "Thank you," Catelyn said, hinting that the girl's invitation to stay was quickly becoming outdated and she quickly shuffled outside. "What does it say?" She asked.

Brandon turned the letter to her. It was practically empty, albeit the three words that were written at the very bottom.  _Soon._ Brandon tore it to shreds, leaving no piece untouched and let out a loud shout of anger. "I waited weeks for this?" He yelled. "Soon!? Soon!? Soon," his words became hysteric.

"I don't see why it bothers you so much, it's just a wedding," Catelyn responded, moving away from him afraid that he would accidentally move the wrong way and hit her.

Brandon looked at her and scoffed. "I pray Lysa is not practically kidnapped from under your nose and your family snubbed in front of the world. I'll see you at dinner," he said getting up from the bed and leaving her with the pieces of paper to hold onto. Catelyn didn't know how to respond and watched as he pulled on his clothes for the day and marched out of the room. It suddenly felt very cold.

...

"Soon! Soon!? Soon!?" Brandon repeated, marching into his brother's room. Ned was wide awake, seated at his table and eating breakfast while watching the sun rise through the small window in his room. Brandon scoffed at his poetic tactics.

Ned turned to Brandon and looked up at him confused. "Soon we're going home or soon father wants to see us?" He asked, playing around with his fruit platter.

Brandon frowned down at him and flicked his wrist. "No? What. No. I wrote to the King-,"

"Why are you like this?" Ned asked, rolling his eyes at his eccentric behaviour.

Brandon ignored him. "Asking the King when the wedding was going to be and wrote  _soon._ "

"Why are you so bothered? He  _has_ no loyalty to even respond to such a stupid letter," Ned said, shrugging his shoulders.

Brandon ignored his comment once more. "I'm going to Kingslanding, tonight, tell father in the morning and tell him not to come after me."

Ned stood from his seat in protest. "You can't, what about Catelyn?"

"Cat would fling herself from a mountain if I told her to," he said, rolling his eyes. Ned gave him a pointed look. "And I would do the same for her." He meekly responded neither of them believed that statement.

"You can't go, Brandon. You have Winterfell, father, your wife; duties to take care of," Ned reminded him, not wanting his brother to throw away everything his father had readied him for. Brandon looked at Ned silently, moving his head from left to right. Ned caught onto to his thought pattern. "Not in the hottest of hells," he said, refusing to even allow his brother to breathe the idea into life.

"Why do you care so little for our sister Ned?" Brandon asked, glaring at him.

"Why do you care so much?" Ned retorted, glaring back. "It's not a big deal honestly. So, she went to Kingslanding without telling us, so she's betrothed-,"

"I think you forget that the same King who took her is the same King the label  _Mad._ The same king who cuts off his subject's tongues or better yet burns them in front of an audience for the shits and giggles. She needs a companion. A Stark, not just some loyalist she's met there. Someone she can talk to, please Ned."

Ned sighed and threw his head back. "I miss Winterfell," he said honestly, unsure if his reluctances was pure selfishness or his desire to keep as far away from the capital as possible.

"We all do," Brandon said, patting his brother on the back gently. "I'll have a horse arranged at the gates at sundown, leave before the sun rises. Leave father to me."

…

_Winterfell. How Lyanna had missed it. She watched from the balcony as her brothers trained in the courtyard helped by the smiths and guards, and of course the master-at-arms. She smiled to herself as her father yelled insults, mainly at Brandon, as he covered his head in fright out of instinct at a sword that was flung at him. She walked to her Septa's room, peeking a look through the door. Her sister was practising sewing and talking quietly with her Septa about tales of the North. Every now and then she would give her work to the Septa, have it corrected and continue. Lyanna walked silently into the room, not wanting to upset the Septa, who did not favour her greatly, and tapped Arianne's shoulder. She frowned at the lack of response by either of them, tapping her once more._

_"Septa my shoulder hurts," Arianne complained, putting her work down and pressing at her shoulder. Her hand went right through Lyanna's as she did so. Lyanna jumped back in a fright, she tried tapping Arianne's shoulder again, only for it to go straight through this time. Shaking her head, Lyanna took a step back. She tried getting her attention by calling out her name._

_"Arianne," she called. No response. "Oi. Arianne," she repeated. Nothing. "It's not funny, stop ignoring me." Huffing Lyanna tried tapping her shoulder again. Before she could though her sister's neck snapped and she looked at Lyanna. Lyanna jumped back in a fright. "Damned, you scared me," she said letting out a laugh._

_Arianne didn't laugh along with her, she merely stood from her seat and glowered down at her. "Leave him and go."_

_"W-what're you talking about?" Lyanna asked. Almost at the blink of an eye, Lyanna notice her hair turning a dirty silver and her skin a pale milky tone, she let out a gasp and fell back onto the floor. "What the blazing hells?" She frowned. Again, it seemed like she blinked and she was stood in front of a large castle, with endless towers and a guarded by a city wall. She guessed it was Kingslanding, she'd seen the flaming thing hundreds of times in her Maester's books, drawn out perfectly._

_"That's mine," the whisper of her sister's voice came. Lyanna tried to push herself from the now dirt covered floor but couldn't find the strength to do so. She felt the ground shake under her and felt wind pass her by. A rider, wearing a silver armour with a painted three-headed dragon and with the helm of a dragon. "That's mine," Arianne's voice repeated, almost mimicking her fearful tone as she turned it into a chant._

_Lyanna looked up at her sister, wondering why she was being so odd. As if out of thin air, three baby dragons appeared on her body, scratching at her dress and skin trying to hold themselves up. They cough out sparks of fire, and squawked like helpless birds. "Their mine."_

_Lyanna tried to reply, but couldn't. It felt like there was a rock shoved down her throat keeping her from talking. She tried to scratch at her throat, but looked behind her to see her hands tied behind her back around a wooden pole. She let out a scared hum, her mouth now covered with a piece of cloth. She tried screaming out to her sister, but she had her back turned to her, and was watching as the ride galloped around the terrain and the dragons, now grown flew in the sky circling the city. The image went dark. Lyanna felt her heart beat through her chest and began to shake. The sound of the horse's hooves got louder, torture almost. There were shrill screeches made by the dragons followed by the ground shaking and the sound of something heavy impacting with the floor. She wanted to scream out; "make it stop!" But couldn't. So, she listened to the noises as she tried to free her hands._

_After a while, her feet began to tingle and her body itch. She felt hot and smelt a burning ash. 'No.' She thought to herself, feeling as though she was being suffocated, unable to breathe. The sounds of explosions got louder. Boom boom boom._

"Lyanna! Open the door will ya!?" Robert's loud voice woke her from her nightmare. Lyanna sat up from her bed, clutching her neck and gasping for air. Her covers were sprawled on the floor and her bed was covered in her sweat. She stood from her bed and quickly walked to the water bowl her maid had left her earlier that night and dunked her head inside. Robert's thumping and shouts were muffled and Lyanna felt at ease.

Remerging her head from the bowl she wiped her face clean with her sleeve and said, "leave me Robert. I'm sleeping."

"Oh," Robert protested. "You nay sleeping my love if you're talking!" He said. He was as drunk as he could be. So she did the sensible thing, ignored him. "Lyanna please open the door, I just want to talk," Robert slurred once more, picking up his hand to hit against the door once more but not finding the energy to do even that.

Lyanna rolled her eyes, unsure if she liked the new side to Robert she was seeing. "Go away." She repeated. "If I must say it again, I'll call the guards Robert." She shouted, feeling her voice shake as she did so. Picking up her covers from her bed and crawled back in, closing her eyes and hoping to erase all memories of that dream by the time the sun came up.

Robert grunted, angry that Lyanna would reject such an innocent gesture in such a manner. He threw the flowers he had picked from the gardens onto the floor in a fit and stomped down the stairs. When he woke next, he found himself wrapped around a soft plush bed in the arms of three women who chittered and played with his hair as he blinked awake.

"Good morning handsome," one smiled planting a small kiss on his lips.

Before Robert could respond however, the door was swung open by Ned. "Neddy!" He called out, still very drunk.

"Get to the castle before they start looking for you," he said looking up at the brothel's ceiling.

Robert rolled his eyes at his friend's chivalry. "They're whores Ned. Looking's free. Isn't it dears?" He drawled admiring their bodies, the woman giggled along with him, amused by Ned's exaggerated manner.

He had covered his eyes with his hand and was talking to Robert, looking very foolish in the process.  _"Will you run to a whore's open legs for comfort whenever my sister upsets you? Because if so, I don't think there will be enough whores in Storms End for that."_

_Robert looked at him offended by his honesty. "Are you going to leave me to get my money's worth or not?"_

...


	23. Dust

**DUST**

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

Rhaegar awoke from his slumber, he had been fading in and out of sleep all night, a million thoughts racing through his mind. As of late, his choice of words had continually left those around him angry, even the squires that helped him dress in the morning noticed, asking him why he had been so silent lately. He merely smiled grimly at them and shrugged, blaming the heat and stress of court. In truth, Aerys had opted out of inviting his son to high council meetings, even though he was the Prince of Dragonstone and had the rightful position to be there, Rhaegar chose against it.

 _I'll fix it all myself once I become King._ He'd think to himself, though knew deep down he felt snubbed and rejected by his father.  _What I would give to have Twyin Lannister back here, and myself back in Dragonstone._ Looking outside of the large glass window he sighed, watching the oblivious courteous talking their morning walks and lounging around the main gardens.

Rhaegar had spent most nights since arguing with Arianne in his children's nursery, opting to sleep on the rocking chair that a wet nurse would sleep in. Instead, he insisted that he would sleep there, he had Kingsguard around him anyways, there wasn't anything he couldn't do that a wet nurse couldn't. That was until Aegon began to scream in the middle of the night and Elia had to call for a nurse. He had forgotten their rooms were adjoining. They shared one look and continued on their routine, Elia returning to her room and Rhaegar sitting back down on his chair.

Tapping his foot impatiently he thought through his itinerary for the day. He found that as days went by he grew more and more impatient. Rhaegar had rarely anytime alone, usually accompanied by courtiers, his mother, wife or Kingsguard. Rarely anytime with his bride to be, other than their occasional meals which had ceased in the previous days. Now that he was alone, he couldn't help think about his predicament. Arianne was right, they really only needed one child to finish the equation. But something within him was telling him that their children would be ... better suited for the roles he had for them. In all honesty, he did not care for the Iron Throne, using that as an excuse to get his point across. He knew something bigger than a crown and seat was coming for them. How could he tell that to Arianne? Better yet anybody? Rhaegar sighed and walked to the balcony, wanting to watch the city he now called home hustle and bustle.

Shouts from the market, children laughing, chatter and horses. He didn't recognize any of them, but they recognized him, what an odd feeling that was. Though, walking through the city walls, two riders. One, small in size, wore a large cape that seemed to have been through it all, the other soldier, wearing the Tully colors and with a large fish embroidered on his cape.  _Why would the Tully's be here_? Rhaegar thought to himself.

"Your grace, the King has called a small council meeting and has called for you," Ser Barristan panted. He must've been searching for him for a while. Rhaegar spread his hands on the stone railings.

"No," he said, not bothering to turn around. "I have my own small council meeting to get to."

Barristan stood still for a moment, unsure of how to reply. "The  _King_ has called, your grace."

"And I the Prince of Dragonstone say the King can wait, I'm busy," Rhaegar snapped back, still not turning.

Barristan silently groaned behind him. "Varys has been telling him things about you sire. You're bringing in men from places. Having secret meetings. Inviting Lords against him."

"Varys is a spineless, dickless spy who has been out for me since I married Elia. He'll be the first to go-," Rhaegar stopped himself and turned to Barristan as if to say  _not a word._

"Varys is loyal to your father and the Targaryen's, his intentions are questionable but he loves your family-,"

"I'm sure he does. I just want to be alone Barristan, tell Arthur to bring Lord Tyrell and Lord Redwyne to the guest house lounge. And a scribe, a trustable scribe. You can go now." Before Barristan could dismiss himself, Rhaegar closed the doors separating the room from the balcony. He needed to get married. He needed Elia gone. He needed Brandon damned Stark to cease his letter bombardment. He needed his father gone. He needed three dragons. He wanted to fling himself from the railings and make it all go away, truthfully.

...

Barristan held his sword as he made his way back to the small council, unsure really of how to tell the King that his son was unable to attend the meeting, or rather unwilling to. As instructed, he whispered Rhaegar's wants to Arthur on the way out of his room and quickly made a dash for it.

"What do you mean unable?" the King scowled, standing from his seat and slamming his hand on the wooden table, causing those around the table to flinch back.

Stannis opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Varys, who gave him a pointed look. "Maybe he feels rejected your grace. You did disallow him from other meetings. Perhaps he wants a permanent place?"

"If he was man enough, he'd be here every meeting. But he doesn't care. Doesn't care enough."

"Or maybe..." Varys began, Barristan rolled his eyes, put his helm on and returned to his usual spot, holding tightly onto his sword and doing his best to block out all conversation between those who ran the seven kingdoms. Varys sensed Barristan's hostility and chose to ignore it. "He's trying something else?"

Aerys looked at Varys, wondering if his most trusted companion was right. He had been right about the Whent's and chaos had reeked to his family while at Harrenhal. Well...mostly chaos. "My own son would never conspire against his father," Aerys said.

"He was burned while your family burnt at Summerhall. He was sent here to ruin the Targaryen's," Varys whispered, unsure if the lords would appreciate his tactics.

"Now hold on," Stannis began. "Just because he doesn't want to come to a council meeting, which by the way is to discuss the same things from the four previous meetings. He wouldn't be missing out on much."

Aerys, stunned and angry that the young Baratheon had chosen to interrupt a conversation glowered at him. "And what exactly would that be, boy?"

Stannis bit his tongue, his father wasn't lying when he said that Aerys was insufferable most of the time. "What are we to do about the Frey's? They've taken Harrenhal and there's no sign of the Whent sons. No sign of the daughter or mother." He quickly looked down at his notes before anyone could cut in. "What are we going to do about the smuggling of goods out of Kingslanding and into Kingslanding? I asked Lord Velaryon-," Stannis looked at Master of Ships, who had been staring at the table "-People aren't paying their taxes because they're too high for the poor and low for the rich. Noble lord's barely paid a penny. Where does the tax that these people pay go? In Storm's End, it was fuelled towards villages and farmers who needed equipment, rather than creating bigger Keeps, higher walls,  _guest houses_ -" he said, referring to Rhaegar's own, "and endless gardens. That could go to a swege system that doesn't bathe the city in shit." He paused for a breathe. "Ser Gerold Hightower also tells me the city is dangerous, the City Watch is too busy in Silk Street to keep a watchful eye on the city."

Aerys stared at the boy, and then back to Varys and then back at the boy. "Do you think you can run this city, these Kingdom's, better than I can?" He seethed.

Stannis looked up at the King, he felt his heart stop. "Of course not your grace, these are merely ideas."

Aerys slid a ghastly finger to the notes that Stannis had placed on the table, took a look at them and then moved his chair back. " _Ideas."_ Aerys felt the blood under his skin boil. One more word from the boy and he would have to show him a lesson in exactly what the Hand was good for. "Your Maester's taught you well, your hand is impeccable." He said.

Stannis looked at him, eyes wide, and then back at Varys begging almost. "Shall we start court?" Varys asked, nervously looking at the King.

Aerys ignored him as he muttered to himself. Stannis knew he had spoken out of turn but was just trying to do as he knew his father had done. "Oswell," the King said, turning to the Kingsguard behind him.

Oswell Whent stepped forward, of all days, he had opted to wear the helm of his house, a large bat on a silver base. "Your grace," his voice came, muffled from the helm.

"Do you think Stannis Baratheon speaks the truth? The Frey's are to be dealt with?" He asked, testing the guard.

Oswell, though it was not visible, couldn't help but dart his eyes at the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard who was seated at the table. "My loyalty lies with the crown. I do not have an opinion on outside matters that do not affect us."

Aerys laughed and turned back to Stannis. "So unless  _you_ have something to do with the Frey's and the missing Whent's, Stannis, will that be all."

"I never said I had anything to do with-"

He was cut off though, by the King once again calling for Oswell and the cupbearer that stood beside him and sat down. "Oswell, strike her." He said boldly. Without hesitation, the Kingsguard had taken his sword from its belt and hit the girl who held the golden jug full of expensive wine. Though, smartly, he had chosen to use the butt of his sword on her cheek, something that would recover quickly. Aerys looked at the guard and tutted. The girl, who had not made a sound, stood from the ground and picked up the jug that was now empty. Unfortunately, though, it had sprayed all over Pycelle, who out of fear sat as still as stone. "Come, Oswell, show us why you were given this position. Strike her so she won't get up."

Oswell looked at the girl, who looked back at him in fear. She dropped the jug in fear and ran for the steel doors, not wanting to know what her fate entailed. "Please no! I have a-a- family to feed, please no." She begged, desperately trying to open the doors that had been locked by Barristan when he had walked in.

"See Stannis, she has a family to feed," Aerys drawled, looking pointedly at the Hand. "How will teach you a lesson, but still give her the chance to feed her family?"

"Your grace," Varys said, his tone wavering as he did so.

Aerys ignored him, signaling for Oswell to carry on. "Her tongue Oswell, perhaps then we can teach Stannis not to speak out of line."

Oswell nodded his head and made way for the girl, who was still trying to open the doors.

...

The sun had left them early that day, Arianne, who had spent every single day since  _Julian Tyrell_ had drunkenly and forcibly kissed her, found herself tossed from bed by Nymella and Penelope, who had both rushed in and said the King had called for an audience. Arianne slipped into a light blue dress, something she had made in memory of home, that was as plain as could be. It had no real fashion or design to it, and she looked like a true bastard in it. Nymella had begged her to choose something different, as there would be prying eyes, but Arianne had refused. She had stopped caring what people thought a long time ago. Jonothor accompanied them to the Great Hall and even walked Arianne past the hush of whispering crowds to the Throne, where Rhaegar, Elia, Oberyn, the King and the Queen stood waiting for her. Stannis Baratheon also stood right beside the King, he had a smudge of red on his forehead and his Hand pin had been placed front and center of his tunic. Both bowing, they made their way up the short steps, Arianne standing closer to the Throne and the King than she did to Rhaegar. A drift between the two could not have been any more obvious.

Arianne turned to smile at Oberyn, though he looked solemnly to the ground, hands behind his back and his face a sickly yellow. Rhaegar, who had stepped closer to her cleared his throat. "Stop staring, people are watching." She did not reply to him, she did not even turn to him, merely looked at the crowd with a dull face. She could only recognise a few faces, some she had taken the liberty of memorising for when the time came, others who she knew would be gone soon enough; undoubtedly, none had taken the liberty of coming up to her and introducing themselves. Jaime and Cersei stood out to her, they were lined up at the very front of the crowd, Cersei proud of her position and Jaime looked as if he wanted to bolt out of the doors a chance he got.

The Hall doors reopened, this time, with guards wearing armour that Arianne had never seen but assumed was Targaryen, from the large three-headed dragon painted on in the middle of the stark black body of it. A tall wooden statue was brought in, taller than the guards who struggled to carry it in. Behind them, a man that Nymella had pointed out to be the Kings Justice some time ago. Arianne had forgotten his name, but not the sheer size of him. He wore all black and carried a small black jar and with the other hand a tall burning candle.

She wanted to ask Rhaegar what was happening but couldn't find it in herself to let go of her pride that quickly. Was it a ritual? A blessing? Was Jaime being sworn in? There was the clanking of chains behind the guards and Kings Justice. Shella Whent followed by an unhelmed Ser Oswell. Shella had her head hung low as her good brother pushed her along gently. Arianne did not know what the relationship between them was, but for him to have to suffer through watching his good sister in chains, that was something she'd never wish for anyone. Rhaegar looked down at Arianne through the corner of his eye, she had been frowning at the scene in front of her. Watching as the wooden pole was placed in the middle of the room and the crowds pushed back to the walls. Cersei made well to let the Kingsguard who had nudged her back her thoughts, sneering at him as he did so. He turned to Jonothor as if to say  _why would you bring her?_ And Jonothor made a nod towards the King, and mouthed  _orders._

The King, who had been watching silently as Shella was pushed to stand next to the wooden pole, stood from his seat. "One last chance, Lady Whent. Beg, on your knees or  _burn._ " Arianne's head snapped back to Rhaegar, he merely nudged her to look forward, now was certainly not the time to play a fool.

Shella stepped forward, and spit on the ground. "Curse the day we invited any of you into our house."

The King turned to Stannis, giving the man a pointed look, Stannis looked at him and then to the ground, grinding his teeth in frustration. "Rossart, burn her until she is nothing but dust." The Kings Justice, Rossart, began to free Shella from her chains and with the help of Oswell, tied her feet and hands together. From the movement of her lips, it was evident that Shella was either whispering to him or praying. Rossart handed the candle for Oswell to hold, and he layered the floor with a thin sheet of a green substance. Arianne squinted, she had never seen the likes of it, perhaps they were threatening her. She did not want to believe it, in her heart. All the things that the King had been said to do to be true.

The King stepped forward, as Rhaegar pulled her back. She did not budge though, freeing her arm from his hold. "Stop being stupid Arianne," he whispered, forcefully pulling her back, "do you want to risk your life or not?"

She ignored him, the King had begun speaking. "You come into my home," he begun as Oswell moved back from Shella and took a spot next to Jaime, as far away as he could get. "Threaten my son, my wife, myself, for a castle? Why should I help a family with no money, no future-,"

"Aerys please, I think you've scared here enough," Rhaella begged, watching as Rossart too moved away from Shella, he had cut the candle short and placed it on the ground.

Aerys turned to his sister-wife, whispered something and turned back around. "You will feel what it feels to upset a dragon." He laughed, watching as the candle's flame caught onto the green substance and creep up to Shella's feet.

"Rhaegar, w-what's happening?" Arianne whispered, looking towards Elia and Oberyn, who had their heads down, then to the crowd, who had down the same.

Rhaegar pulled her by her hand gently, his touch cold on her sweaty palms, and put her head between his shoulder and chest. When she heard Shella beg for the fire to be put out and Aerys retort back meaningless insults and bursts of laughter she wrapped her arm around him and looked up at him. Rhaegar whispered a small "shh" at her mutters and sobs. As she held him tight, she heard Shella let out screams and pleas, her voice sounding less human as time went on. There was no crackling, like she had expected, as the flames grew, there was no dust that came down. Just green. In the shadow of her Rhaegar's crown, she saw a yellow hue, reflecting from the green flames. It was over as quick as it had started, Arianne didn't want to look at the now burnt spot where Shella had once been, but instead, focused her attention of Rhaegar's lilac eyes and the ringing from her ears.

_"And that is where you sent your brother, behind my back. Feel proud of yourself, Lord Stark."_

...


	24. Oath Taker

**OATH TAKER**

**Kingslanding - The Great Sept of Baelor**

"You swear to protect the king from harm or threat?" The high sparrow spoke, his voice never wavering, obviously being used to the large crowd that was in front of him.

"I do," Jaime responded. He had been surrounded by the other Kingsguard, who on orders of the King had said farewell to their golden armour for one that was a dusty black and had a roaring three-headed dragon imprinted on it. Jaime looked at them, not knowing who was who, except for Ser Jonothor Darry, who towered over the others in height and build. They had their swords held in front of them, and the King stood behind them. Jaime searched the crowds for his father, who was nowhere to be seen. He'd thought he'd of made some effort to watch him be sworn in.

"You swear to provide the same protection that you will give to the King to the royal family, mistresses and bastards alike?"

"I do."

"To follow orders from the King, other blood royals, the Hand and the Small Council?"

"I do."

"To serve the King's pleasure's?"

"I do."

"To keep the King's secrets and take them with you to the grave?"

 _So dramatic._ Jaime thought to himself, but nonetheless nodded his head and responded. "I do."

"To protect the King's name and his honour?"

"I do."

"To father no children, hold no wives or homes?"

Jaime's eyes flashed to Cersei, who nodded her head for him to go on. Her eyes pushing him on, "I do."

"Do you promise to protect the Targaryen name? Hold them as your true Kings and Queens, never to rebel against them nor their name?"

"I do."

The high Sparrow sighed and held out his hand and placed it on Jaime's golden hair. "With the Seven looking down on us, I hereby swear you into the holy brotherhood of the Kingsguard. Ser Jaime Lannister." The Sparrow removed his head, moved aside to allow the squires to shuffle in and hand Jaime his new black helm and quickly changed his own Lannister armour into one of the Kingsguard. As rehearsed the night before, once he had been dressed, he walked over to the King who carelessly touched his left and right elbows with a sword and then to the Lord Commander, Ser Gerold, who gave him his own sword. All the while, Jaime wondered how Aerys did anything with the nails he had, it was a miracle he was able to even pick up the damned sword.

Rhaegar was the first one to start the applause, smiling at the newly appointed Kingsguard. He turned to his wife, who held a stiff face and then to Arianne, who was stood at his right side. "Enjoyed it?" He asked over the loud applause.

Arianne clapped along with him and she nodded her head. "I'm just scared to go back out there," she honestly replied. They had made their way to the Sept on foot, past the hundreds and thousands who had gathered to see the Prince and their King. Ned, who had never seen such a thing, looked at Arianne in bewilderment and she nudged him along. Rhaegar had kindly given him a room in his guest house after a Dornish family had departed from Kingslanding, and Arianne made sure he was grateful. Even if he was grateful, the room was a long walk for both brother and sister, who had become inseparable ever since he had arrived. Ned had also received a letter from his brother Brandon, who told him that they were at Storms End and his younger sister Lyanna had begun to lose her mind as the wedding day neared. Ned assumed that Robert was doing just about the same.

"He looks depressed," Ned said to his sister, watching as Jaime followed the other six Kingsguard up the steps to where they stood, the King in between them. Rhaegar, the Queen and Elia had caught up with him, walking out of the Sept together.

"You look depressing," Arianne pointed out. Since their time together she noticed her brother had alternated from three different pants and two different dress shirts. Ned looked at her annoyed and covered his eyes as the sun hit them directly. Arianne couldn't wait for the ceremony that was to follow, apparently it had been planned to be outside and there would be performances in Jaime's honour. Ned on the other hand, thought the whole proceeding too much, if he was sworn in then that was it, he didn't see the need for extravagances.

The King, who had been walked with his back arched, was muttering to himself. The people who had come to greet them, scared to say anything to him, instead focused on Rhaegar; who engaged with them well, waving and smiling back at them.

"They like him, a lot," Ned said, watching as Rhaegar moved Jonothor aside to pick up a young girl who had run up to him.

Arianne watched along with him and then looked back at her brother. "I can't see why not," she said, smiling at the man who had irked her regularly but was infatuated with.

Ned rolled his eyes at her. "Stop drooling."

...

The ceremony held in honour of Jaime was well under way, with singers and musicians entertaining the crowds and courtiers that were present at the garden celebration. Rhaegar, who hadn't spoken to Arianne since they returned to the Keep, whispered something to his mother as dancing began and left the gardens for his own newly created quarters. He had wanted to check on the preparations for the small feast he had prepared to welcome Arianne to Kingslanding.  _A very overdue welcome,_  he thought to himself, pushing aside the sheer silk curtains that he had chosen to have the Keep's windows and doors covered in. His advisor had told him it would be cheaper and quicker than buying wooden or steel doors.

He watched as the servants put the final touches for the feast, plates placed on the small circular tables and candles being lit around the room. "It looks perfect," he smiled at a passing servant, who held a large vase containing Forget-Me-Nots. She smiled at him and continued working, whispering and giggling to the others as she did so.

"You were always the charmer."

The voice he had dreaded hearing since its owner had returned to Kingslanding. "Get back to the gardens Cersei." He rolled his eyes as she neared him.

Cersei, never one to follow instructions, shook her head and stood behind him. "A private celebration for my brother?" She asked, watching as the servants left the room.

"Nope," Rhaegar responded, walking around the small lounge room turned feast room to inspect it.

Cersei frowned. "So, what's all this for?" She asked him, crossing her arms over her chest and watching as he touched anything to distract himself.

"Someone that's not you," he retorted, his voice distant.

Cersei smiled at him and shook her head, walking up to him, she snaked her arms around his neck, the height difference bringing him down a few inches. "Don't you miss what we used to have? Don't you miss me?"

Rhaegar, annoyed that she had touched him, freed himself from her grip. "I stopped missing you a long time ago."

"When?"

"When I married Elia. Five years ago," he snapped back.

"You're about to be unmarried soon," Cersei pointed out.

"What?"

"You think I do not keep up to date with the man who will wed me soon? No future husband, I know everything. it's alright your secrets are safe with me," she said, touching his hand with her own.

"I'm not  _unmarrying_ anyone," Rhaegar said, taking his hand back. "And I will never be your husband."

She blinked up at him. "You can be my other things."

Rhaegar let out a laugh. "And then what? You'd fall conveniently pregnant?"

"So, you do want to be my other things?" Cersei smirked, bringing his hand to her cheek. "We both know that imposter you drag around with you all the time won't last here long."

"Go back to the gardens," Rhaegar repeated, though he did not take his hand from her cheek.

Cersei shook her head. "You'll get tired of her, just like you got tired of Elia," she smiled, placing a small kiss on his hand.

"Stop it."

"What was the saying? Old habits die hard?" She asked, moving her head to the side. "Or was it same dog new bitches?"

Rhaegar, shaking himself from her trance, took his hand from her cheek. "You forget yourself."

"No, you've forgotten me," Cersei said, touching her chest lightly.

"If you want to continue being welcome here, I suggest you watch your tongue."

Cersei let out a laugh, "look at you trying to resist me," she shrugged her shoulders. "See you tonight I guess." Smirking, she walked off to the now dark outside.

Rhaegar sighed pouring himself a cup of wine from the table nearest to him, drinking it, he poured another for himself. Shrugging his shoulders, he put down the cup and walked back to the gardens briskly and sat himself down next to Arianne, who had been playing with the pigeon pie in front of her.

"Not to your liking?" He smiled at her, picking up her hand in his and playing with her dragon ring.

Arianne turned to him in surprise and then in anger. "I've been sat here alone for so long. Where have you been?" She asked.

"Somewhere," Rhaegar responded, touching her nose with his finger.

"Well I've been having a lovely chat with your mother and she tells me the King is going to announce our betrothal tonight?" her statement came out as a question, seeking his validation.

Rhaegar shrugged, though he was surprised his father was making the announcement so quickly. "So what? I know I'm marrying you, you know you're marrying me, who cares who else knows."

Arianne gave him a pointed look and sniffed once. "You've been drinking." She accused.

"Sorry mother," Rhaegar responded, giving her a questioning look.

Arianne wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ew."

Rhaegar let out a laugh, "my mother and father are siblings and your sibling's parents were cousins. There's nothing wrong with it."

Her face turned into one of question and repulsion, but before she could respond with an even more offensive statement, Julian Tyrell tapped his finger on the table. "Brother," he said, nodding towards Rhaegar. "Hello, my lady."

Arianne looked at him, both angry and confused that he did not remember their last encounter. "Julian. How is water treating you?" Rhaegar asked, standing from his seat to shake his friends hand.

Julian shrugged his shoulders. He did look less lively than the last time Arianne had seen him and he seemed to be much quieter without the wine. "There are so many beautiful women here and I'm saddened that I don't have a helping hand."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes and sat back down, indicating for Julian to sit down next to him. "Have you met my own beautiful woman? Lady Arianne Sand." Arianne nodded her head at him briefly, but focused her on looking anywhere but at him.

"No, I haven't," Julian responded and he paused for a moment, "though I feel as if I've dreamt of you."

Rhaegar looked at Julian suspiciously but before he could warn his friend, the King stood from his seat and held his hand up, indicating that he wanted to say something. His mood seemed to have lifted greatly for he had a small creepy smile etched on his face. Julian looked to Rhaegar and raised his brow, Rhaegar shook his head. "Congratulations and so on and so on to Ser Jaime Lannister," he said, seeming uninterested in the matter. "Now as you chatterers probably know," he muttered, picking up his untouched wine glass, "my son is to be married, again, to my…keeper of the North's daughter, Arianne Snow." There was a short silence, and Arianne looked to the quiet crowd, who hadn't expected the announcement. Nonetheless, there was applause. He raised his glass and took a sip, "to my new daughter."

"Here, here," Julian whispered along, watching as the entire garden took a swing of wine.

Ned, who had been seated at a table with other courtiers, walked to their table, greeted Julian and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to retire, it's getting late."

Rhaegar scoffed at the young boy. "The sun went down only now. Stay a little," he insisted.

Ned shook his head and congratulated him but insisted on leaving. "No, I'm quite new to late nights. Congratulations, your grace." With that, he was making his way away from the gardens and to Rhaegar's first guest house.

After Ned, a line of others followed to congratulate them, Rhaegar instructed Arianne to stand and made sure to indicate who had walked up to them so she wasn't completely clueless. Julian had taken a step back and was stood behind them.

"Congratulations, my lady," Jonothor smiled, nudging Arianne.

She turned to him and smiled, but quickly pouted. "You've abandoned me to be with the newest recruit," she said, feigning a sad sigh.

"Well, the more experienced are reserved for the King," he pointed out, not wanting to offend her.

Arianne rolled her eyes. "The four best warriors in the Seven Kingdoms for one man. How much danger could he possibly be in?" She laughed, Jonothor flashed a smile down at her and shook his head. Arthur came behind Jonothor, whispered something, and pulled him to the side.

"Is he alright?" Arianne asked Rhaegar, watching as the King was helped from his seat discreetly and shuttled off behind the curtains, presumably to his rooms.

Rhaegar shrugged. "Old age."

…

The celebrations had ended, the Queen had retired, not before giving Arianne a sweet kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry for not making time to spend time with you. I promise we'll see each other much more soon." Rhaella smiled, toying with Arianne's hair.

Arianne smiled back at her. "There are bigger things that a Queen must see to, your grace."

"Hush, I'll plan something just for the two of us soon. Keep your days free."

Arianne raised her brows and huffed. "Oh, don't worry, my days are very free." She told her, the Queen let out a small laugh and said goodbye once more leaving Arianne to search the crowds from Nymella and Penelope to go back to her chambers. Rhaegar took her hand in his and pulled her along behind the curtains. "What're you doing?" She exclaimed, almost tripping on her own dress.

"No one can say anything now, so I can display affection publicly with no questions asked," he told her.

Arianne rolled her eyes as he led her through a path she'd never seen before, and assuming from the freshly planted small trees and flowers, it was new. "Rhaegar, I can walk you know," she said to him, wriggling her hand free.

Rhaegar turned back to her and sighed. "Sorry, I'm excited." He pushed her forward, and put a cloth over her eyes. "Now be quiet and allow me this one chance to be romantic." Arianne couldn't help but let out a laugh, but went along with it as he took her hand once more and walked her carefully. Though she couldn't see him, she knew he was watching her as he spoke. "I always think about you, our future, our children." He said silently. The walk was short and it seemed that they had arrived because they had stopped walking.

Arianne, not wanting to seem foolish and try to find his voice, looked towards the ground. "I forgot how poetic you were," she smiled.

Rhaegar smiled, though she couldn't see it. "Not poetry," he whispered behind her. "Prophecy."

Arianne bit her lip in anticipation, ignoring his words. She usually did so when he began to talk about prophecies, ice and fire, the dead coming for them, it bore her to no avail and more importantly, made her worry about exactly what was happening in his mind. "Okay?" She said, feeling his cool touch behind her.

Rhaegar turned her around to the left. "I think the Keep is impractical. I think you shouldn't have to share a garden with others, I think you deserve everything. So…" he untied the cloth around her eyes. Arianne looked at the guest house in front of her. She'd never seen such thing. She knew that the castle was large, but she hadn't imagined to was large enough to hold  _another_ house within it. Unlike the dusty bricks of the Keep, the guest house was made of white bricks and in substitute of doors, had white curtains and drapes.

"For me?" She asked him, turning to look at him.

Rhaegar nodded his head and held her waist from behind. "Four chambers to house whomever you please, a private pool, a lounge and a dining hall. And of course, a garden is being made behind it for your own use. I've arranged for my own guards to take care of you, if you choose to stay here."

Arianne turned back around to the guest house, touching his arms that were still on her and letting out an unattractive laugh. "I love it!" She smiled, containing the excitement she held and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Rhaegar instantly regrated those who had invited to the guest house, knowing that they would be waiting for them by now inside. He knew neither of them wanted to leave the embrace, it had been the first time they had even come close to such affection, most of the time it was small touches and hands being held but he'd never thought she'd initiate a hug. As foolish as it sounded to him. As she let go of him to gaze at the house one more time, he couldn't help but sneak a small kiss on her cheek. One she didn't respond to, still admiring the house.

"Come here," he said pulling her back to kiss her properly. Arianne didn't resist it, wanting to savour a moment she knew well and truly that they wouldn't have until their wedding day. She'd only kissed a few boys in her time, Roose Bolton, who had followed her to her chambers after a feast her father had held, Brandon, when they were very little, Lord Umber's youngest son; who had cried because Arianne had thought him too small for her to kiss during her name day, Julian and now Rhaegar. Pulling him closer by the back of neck, Arianne smiled into the kiss as the height difference made it difficult for them to be comfortable. Pulling away, Rhaegar nudged her inside.

"My clothes are still in the Keep," she reminded him, resisting his push.

"I have another surprise," Rhaegar smiled, nudging her once more.

The moment however was ruined by a stumbling Julian, who had come in search for the two. "Finally!" He slurred. In his left hand he held a glass of wine and in his other a sword. "We've started without you." He said, returning into the guest house.

Arianne snapped her head to Rhaegar and crossed her arms over her chest. "If this is some sort of joke Rhaegar I-."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes at her and mentioned for her to for her to follow him. "You'll like it. I promise you." How could she say no to those eyes that were begging her to follow him? Those lips that had just been on hers? Those hands that would one day hold their children? Arianne gave him a smirk, picked up her dress and followed him inside.

It was even more beautiful inside than it was outside. The hundreds of candles inside lit the house up, the breeze from outside brought in cool air, and the chatter than came from one of the rooms intrigued Arianne. Servants and guards lined the house, cleaning, walking around with treats and drinks and holding swords, respectively.

Rhaegar led them to a room, passing the steps that led upstairs, and the closed doors of many other rooms. He showed her to what Arianne guessed to be the dining hall adjoined with the lounge room, that had courtiers that Arianne knew to be close to Rhaegar spotted around. "It was supposed to be a feast," he said sighing and pointing to the ravaged dining tables, "but I think they had other plans." They looked back at the courtiers, who had been dancing, laughing and lazing on the plush couches.

Arianne smiled at Rhaegar and gave his hand a squeeze. "It's the thought that counts." She said, noticing Jaime and Arthur standing by the doors along with Targaryen guards.

"Shall we go and introduce you?"

…

Arianne huffed and sat on one of the circular tables, she had snuck away from Rhaegar who had insisted on introducing her to every single person in the room. From Stannis Baratheon of Storms End, who had told her it was his last day in Kingslanding and discussed the marriage between his younger brother and her older sister, to Dornish courtiers, who had been very open with her. Much to Rhaegar's dismay.

She had even talked to Ashara, who had told her that Elia had chosen to stay in Kingslanding and Rhaegar had promised to keep their marriage intact rather than annulling it. "I was so excited to go home, but then he convinced Elia to stay." Ashara said, rolling her lilac eyes. Arianne frowned, wondering why he had changed his mind. Almost as if Ashara had read her mind, she said to her, "he said, you convinced him to think about the children."

Arianne let out a small "oh," remembering the small argument they'd had. She didn't think it would make him change his mind.

"I hope we can talk more," Ashara said, touching Arianne's arm.

Arianne nodded her head. "I agree. We should arrange a tea soon."

Ashara let out a laugh, "you and your proper ways. Come to my room whenever you please," she said, nudging her.

Arianne blushed. "Sorry, I'm not sure when I'm supposed to be proper anymore," she said truthfully.

"I'll teach you," Ashara smiled flashing her teeth as she did so. "Congratulate Brandon for me would you, I think it would be improper for a random girl he danced with to." She said, touching her own stomach lightly as she did so and left Arianne.

Arianne picked up a plate that had been left untouched and began eating. It was much better than the measly meals that were prepared for Jaime's celebration. "Congratulations." It seemed that one only needed to think of a person to have them speak.

Looking up at the newly appointed Kingsguard and she covered her mouth. "Thank you," she said, her words coming out muffled.

Jaime let out a chuckle. "I'd assume that we're going to see a lot more of each other."

Arianne nodded her head and swallowed her food. "Yes, I'd assume so. Congratulations to you too."

Jaime rolled his eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his new armour. "I'm wondering if a death sentence is something to be congratulated." Arianne stared at him, her eyes wide. "Relax. We're all friends here." He said, indicating to those behind them. Arianne raised her brows at him. "I mean, it's not like you've been here long. I've known these people since I was six and ten."

Their conversation however was cut short by his own sister, who had sat herself down next to Arianne and smiled at both. "Hello," she drawled, holding a clear glass of wine in her hand. Jaime rolled his eyes, bowed his head to Arianne and returned to his post next to Arthur. Arianne stood to leave the table, uncomfortable with the silence and awkwardness that Cersei had brought along with her. Her hand however was pulled back down by Cersei. "Stay away from my brother," she seethed, looking at the younger girl.

Arianne rolled her eyes.  _So, this was the infamous Cersei Lannister._ She thought to herself as she took her hand from Cersei's. "I could care less about your brother. I thought I showed that at the Tourney."

"Oh, you showed many things at the Tourney alright," Cersei smirked, taking a sip of her wine. Arianne gave her a confused look. "Oh please. Your slimy little hands will sink into any man who looks her way."

Arianne laughed and turned away from Cersei, standing up once more. "I don't need any other man, I have Rhaegar."

Cersei clenched her jaw, standing from her seat. "Go home." She said, her voice turning deeper.

Arianne crossed her arms over her chest. "That'll be hard to do once I'm  _married_ to him, won't it?"

Cersei, keeping her composure, tugged at her finger and put a ring on the table. "Tell Rhaegar I can't be put in the middle anymore. First Elia, and now you," she said, her voice cracking as she did so. Arianne looked down at the ring on the table. It was indeed Rhaegar's, she recognised its fashion. A small red jewel that sat comfortably on a black bed of small jewels.

Arianne looked down at the ring for a moment too long, for Cersei had left her standing there alone.

…


	25. Arrival

**ARRIVAL**

**Riverlands - Riverrun**

Rickard watched as Brandon, his eldest, most trusted son, helped his new bride into her carriage. Next, he helped his sister, who rejected his hand and clambered in after her.

"Are you sure you don't want to take our ships? You'd only need one, two at the most," Hoster had asked him the day before. But Rickard refused. He had already spent far too long at Riverrun. Besides, he had been planning this trip ever since Lyanna and Robert's betrothal was made official. They'd go through High Hear, Acron Hall, Tumbleton, Grassy Vale and then make it, hopefully to Storms End safely. All the while, passing the Kingswood, which was inches close to his beloved daughter and now son. From then, he would bid farewell to Lyanna and return home. That was if, the King had decided to marry Rhaegar quickly. Something he hoped for and yet dreaded.

"Shall I go to the front or the back?" Brandon asked, taking his leather gloves from the squire's outstretched arms.

Rickard looked at him baffled. They had been preparing to leave for Storms End, Rickard was just getting over his second son's stupidity and his first son's ignorance when they had received word from Kingslanding. Shella Whent had been burnt at the stake, in front of the entire souths residing courtiers. He had been astonished, everyone except for Brandon was taking the news badly.

Merida, as expected, had locked herself in her room and had been left to her own devices. Catelyn and Lyanna tried to console the girl, but she would have none of it. Blaming Hoster for her mother's death. Hoster blamed himself as well, saying his goodbyes and calling his daughter into his study, of which she left with a mysterious silver box.

"Have you gone mad, boy?" Rickard barked. The whole courtyard stopped for a moment, looked at the encounter and slowly moved back to help the family get ready to leave.

Brandon frowned at his father. "No?"

"Do you have any idea where you have sent your brother Brandon?"

"Kingslanding," Brandon scoffed back as if to ask his father,  _obviously._

Rickard clicked his tongue and took the reigns of the horse that was being handed to him. He muttered to himself. " _Kingslanding_ ," he whispered. "Shella Whent has just burnt for asking for a castle back. What do you think Ned going unannounced, uninvited. You don't think he'll feel provoked?"

"He's supposed to feel provoked," Brandon snapped back, looking up at his father. "It was either Ned or me."

 _I've given him too much power._ Rickard thought to himself. "Well, it should've been you." He retorted, watching as drawbridge was lowered and Stark guards began to march out of the castle. Their last piece of heaven before making the long journey to Storm's End and then back home to Winterfell. Rickard had thought many times whether he should send them home, there was no real reason for them being there. But by their rejection of the idea, he had assumed the meals and warmth they received under him at present was better than what they received at home.

Brandon looked at his father offended. "But Winterfell-,"

"Winterfell what?"

"Winterfell would need me. You would need me. Cat-,"

He was cut off, Rickard let out a cold laugh. " _Need_ you?"

Brandon ignored the remark, opting to believe that his father was just angry with him. "If Arianne can survive Kingslanding," he said rolling his eyes, "Ned can."

"So what was the point of sending him? To make your position of power known? Are you competition to the King now? Sending your brother there as a companion. He'll be as useful as Oberyn Martell."

"Exactly. He'll be a companion. Maybe he'll learn to be free there. Find a wife even," Brandon smiled, patting his father's leg.

Rickard kicked his hand away. "Your wife's aunt has just been burnt, have some compassion." He said, watching as a squire, unknown to both of them walked up to them.

"What is it?" Brandon asked. They weren't due to leave until Robert had been saddled and seated on his horse. It was his home they were going to.

"Lord Baelish wishes to have a word with you, my lords," the squire muttered, looking anywhere but at them.

Brandon found the eyes of the man who he hated with a passion. "Lord Baelish has to send ravens now?" He asked. The squire glanced at him. "We're in the middle of a conversation." He pointed out.

"Thank you, Harry, that'll be all," Petyr smiled, pushing the squire to move along.

"What do you want? Another beating?" Brandon said, quiet enough that his now distracted father was looking elsewhere.

Petyr let out a fake laugh. "Always the charmer. No, I came to tell you that Stannis Baratheon has resigned as Hand. The jobs open to whoever wants it."

"The King chooses the Hand," Rickard bluntly reinserting himself into the conversation. "Not the common folk."

Petyr nodded his head, "that is true. But just a word of warning not to jump into the puddle too early. It is said that Stannis endured some ...  _testing_ situations while acting as Hand."

Brandon, allowing his more curious side to take over, fed into Petyr's words. "What'd you mean," he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Apparently," Petry smiled, looking up to Rickard. "The King would have servants mutilated for every thought he gave. Said his ideas were too liberal you see."

Rickards horse grew restless, stomping its foot onto the ground and shaking its head about. Rickard looked at Brandon and shook his head. "And that is where you sent your brother, behind my back. Feel proud of yourself,  _Lord Stark._ " And with that he was crossing the courtyard swiftly, leaving his son to handle Petyr and his bruised ego.

...

"You're awfully quiet," Catelyn whispered to Lyanna. They had been listening in on Brandon and Lord Stark's conversation, or rather bickering and she didn't want to miss a word from it.

Lyanna, who could care less for the conversation, closed the door to the carriage. "I don't want to marry Robert." She confessed.

Catelyn looked at her, and raised a brow. "Since when does that matter?"

Lyanna looked back at the girl, shocked she would say such a thing. "Since now!" She exclaimed, making sure her voice was not too loud but provided Catelyn with enough expression to surprise her.

"Alright," Catelyn said holding her hands out in surrender. "May I ask why?"

Lyanna sighed and began to toy with her thumbs. "I-I don't want to marry a drunk or a man who holds whores in a higher esteem than he holds me," she responded. Catelyn pushed for more. "He hasn't made an effort to even get to know much, rather he just compliments me and my  _different lady manners_ compared to others ladies. I fear I will be a project for him. To show others that I can be tamed. Or you can have the best of both worlds. A loyal wife and a hundred whores to please you."

Catelyn pursed her lips. "What are you going to do about it? I mean, we're literally on our way to  _your_ wedding." She said, mentioning the carriage.

Lyanna groaned and put her head in her hands. "I just want to run away. Why couldn't the Prince have chosen me to kidnap?" She whined, making light of her sister's situation.

Catelyn couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Look, I'm sure you'll grow to like him. Brandon and I have our differences but we still try to make it work."

"Catelyn, what life do I have ahead of me? A second son. You have a Lord Paramount to be. Me a drunk. My sister a Prince. Even Benjen gets a better fate than I," Lyanna said.

Before Catelyn could respond though, the carriage door was swung open and revealed Catelyn's father, who had fresh blood on his hands. "Merida. She's tried to-," he didn't know if he should continue. "She tried to-," he couldn't. And didn't need to. Catelyn pushed him out of the way to see what the commotion was about. First, she'd check on Merida, then she'd kill Lysa, for promising to take care of her and not even managing to make it an hour.

**Kingslanding - The Red Keep**

Arianne had been sick for a week straight. She did not know how people had continued on with their lives as if nothing had happened. She turned to her left on the large bed that she had called home for a time and saw the empty space, where Nymella and Penelope had been staying with her. She had grown oddly close with them, though truthfully they were the only two apart from Rhaegar and Oberyn who had made an effort to spend time with her. The Queen was preoccupied with her duties, as she had told her so through messengers and gifts of sweets and the King, well she did not want his company so she did not dwell on it.

There was a knock on the door, the knock she had grown used to. Jonothor. He knocked twice, and after no reply opened the door. Oberyn stood in behind him, hands behind his back. He thanked Jonothor and walked into the room, sitting down on the chair nearest to Arianne's bed. She pulled the covers all the way up to her nose and looked at him, questioning his motives.

"How many naked women do you think I have seen?" Oberyn asked her bluntly.

"Thirty?" Arianne guessed, unsure of what number he wanted her to say.

"Close," Oberyn smiled. "A thousand and two." He seemed proud of it.

"Congratulations. Would you like a prize for that?" Arianne scowled at him, how could he be so insensitive.

Oberyn sighed sheepishly and brought his hands in front of him, revealing a small silk golden box. "I want to go home. Can't you convince the Queen to move your wedding forward so I don't have to see this place another day?" Oberyn asked her, handing her the box.

"I think you forget I have as much access to the royal family as you do," she replied, taking the box from his hands and opening it. It was a ring, with a dragon wrapping around the golden middle section, what she guessed to be the egg. She examined it, saw a small tool to open the egg and gasped in delight as it opened. The middle was empty, save for the decorative flowers engraved in it. "What will I carry in it?" Arianne asked him.

Oberyn shrugged. "Whatever you want. A lock of hair?" He suggested and they both let out foolish laughs at the idea.

"How very romantic."

He took the ring from the finger she had tested it on and put it back in its box. "For safe keeping."

Arianne looked at him suspiciously. "Why  _are_ you here?" She asked.

He squinted back at her. "To see my friend. Have they forbidden than?"

Arianne looked at her hands, "sorry," she muttered.

Oberyn stood from his chair and began to walk around her room. "For what. I understand." There was a short silence. "Have you told Rhaegar? Julian is a trusted companion of his." Indicating to the brief conversation he had with her the day it happened. She had sworn him away after telling him about Julian and he accidentally let a laugh slip out.

She shook her head. "He was drunk. Smelt like he'd been dipped in wine from head to toe."

"Olenna Tyrell will do that to you," he said, pressing his palm on various parts of the room. "Anyway, the important part of why I'm here other than to shower you in gifts and visit you and so on. Your brother's here. The City Watch brought him to the Great Hall a few hours ago and he's been waiting there since."

She flew from her bed, tangled in her sheets, and straight to the white marble floors. Picking herself up from the embarrassing situation she quickly began dashing around her room, looking for where Nymella and Penelope had put her clothes. She wasn't complaining about their constant help, but she did enjoy the independence growing up at Winterfell had given her. Oberyn let out a laugh and pointed to the large cupboard near her bed that was tucked away in a corner. "Why didn't anybody tell me!?" Arianne rambled, throwing the cupboard doors open and looking at the small collection of dresses she had built. Penelope had told her it had to be bigger, that the more the merrier, but Arianne knew she would just keep getting the same design and fashion of dresses in different colours, so why waste material, gold, and silver.

"Because your brute doesn't let anyone in here without playing a lovely game of a thousand questions," he said.

"Good," Arianne responded, picking out a white dress that Rhaella had gifted to her. "Jonothor keeps me safe."

Oberyn tutted and left the small golden box on her vanity and sat on her bed with arms behind him and head thrown back. "Hurry up, he's been asking for you for a while and I do not think my friends can keep him company for long."

Arianne scoffed and laughed at his ignorance. "Brandon could keep a conversation with a sheep if he felt like it."

"Brandon could do no such thing," the soft voice of Ned Stark came from across the door. Jonothor was obviously doing his job very well.

Arianne smiled at Oberyn excitedly and opened the door to her room. He hadn't changed the slightest. "Ned," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Oh, you don't know what a familiar face means to me."

Ned smiled and hugged her back, looking up at Jonothor in a hidden fear. "I could say the same thing."

Arianne let go of him and pulled him into her room, he looked around in awe. "Even Lord Arryn didn't have Robert and I living in this luxury."

She grimaced and shook her head. "I can't take credit for any of it."

Ned scoffed. "Compared to Winterfell, this is like-,"

" _Kingslanding,"_ Oberyn cut in, laughing at the young boy.

Ned looked over at the Dornish Prince, still unsure of his feelings on him and nodded his head. Looking around he stared in amazement at the view the balcony gave, and the sheer size of the room. "Do you throw feasts in here or something?" He asked his sister, turning back to her.

Arianne laughed and clutched onto his arm. "Aye, I'm sure we can try."

"Gods it smells rotten though," he pointed out, looking at the flowers and burning candles around her room.

"Shit, sweat, blood, piss, whores...just think of anything dirty and that's the smell," Oberyn said, putting on a face of disgust. He would never grow used to the smell either.

Ned ignored Oberyn again, this time not even acknowleging his statement. "So I guess this is where I'll stay?" He joked, pointing to the lounge that was placed in the center of the room.

"Don't be silly, I'm sure Rhaegar could arrange somethi-,"

Ned cut her off, surprised at her informality. "First names already?" He teased.

Arianne gave him a side eye. "Don't play daft, we are to be married aren't we. Am I to call him your grace every moment of the day?" She asked him. Arianne didn't give him enough time to respond. "How is everyone? How was the wedding? How's Merida?" She asked, giving a pointed look at Oberyn who had his lips in a thin line and was looking anywhere but at her. "How is father?" She asked last.

"Good, good, good, good," Ned replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Aye, I forgot you had the emotional capacity of a fly," Arianne said, lightly punching his shoulder.

Ned punched her back, harder. "Aye, I forgot you had the punch of a girl." Arianne gasped at him, not allowing the paint o get to her and jumping on top of him in a dash. She began pulling at his hair and clawing at his neck. "I will hoy you over this balcony if you keep doing that."

"Hey! I am the future  _Queen_ you forget," Arianne pointed out.

"And I'm the future Lord of Winterfell," Ned said jokingly.

"You wish," Arianne retorted.

Oberyn stood from the bed and sighed, watching them bicker, fearing he would grow jealous of their playful fight he excused himself from the room slightly and left. The door closing stopped them bickering, once it would've been their father.

"You're scared of him," Arianne pointed out. She had noticed as soon as Ned walked into the room he had feared the Red Viper.

Ned scoffed and sat down on the sofa. "No." He bluntly said.

Arianne rolled her eyes. "Oberyn Nymeros Martell. The man who coats his blades in poison moves in combat like a viper, the man who beds men and women," she smiled whispering behind his ear.

"Stop talking like that," Ned said, jumping up from his seat and glaring at his older sister.

"He's smart as well, it's true. I've done my research," she said shrugging her shoulders.

Ned looked at his younger sister, who had walked to her bed and slid back into it.  _This is what Brandon was so worried about_? He thought to himself, sighing and laying on the sofa for the first comfortable sleep he would get for two weeks. He had ridden so fast that the poor horse he'd stolen from the Tully's was probably dead in the Keeps stables by now. Closing his eyes, he wondered what life in Kingslanding would be like. What would he do until his sister got married? She seemed to be educated on many of those residing her, maybe she was social with them? Perhaps she didn't need him. Perhaps he could've gone home.

_I can't believe I listened to Brandon bloody Stark._

...


End file.
